Thy Bog Overfloweth
by Wolfish Oro
Summary: A rather unfortunate and unusual event forces Jareth to reside with Sarah for a time... Unbeknownst to him, people are plotting behind his back, and Sarah is in on it... Entirely humor, same story, new summary. COMPLETE. sobs
1. Some Plot and Much Insanity

Labyrinth 

Thy Bog Overfloweth

Chapter 1

* * *

Jareth scowled at the door.

There was nothing truly wrong with the door, except what was behind it. This thought ran through Jareth's head and he savagely chased it away.

_There is EVERYTHING wrong with the door,_ he growled mentally, _INCLUDING what is behind it!_

It was, unmistakably, an Aboveground door. It was also a very nice door that made a point of not jamming in foul weather and swinging open when the weather was nice. It was simple and elegant, and it was mocking him. Because of what was behind the stupid door.

How dare it! A door, mock him, the Goblin King?! Incomprehensible!... Especially because it wasn't mocking him; Jareth was just being melodramatic. But, given the circumstances, he thought that was perfectly reasonable. He was, after all, here on some rather unpleasant (and unfairly delicate) business, a few wrong words and he would end up back outside, quite possible escorted by an outraged kick to his kingly arse.

He had been extraordinarily cautious about the timing of this... visit. He had waited for Friday before the goblins finally drove him out, a great many vacating with him. He sulked around town for the afternoon, and waited for the car to be out the driveway and to have turned the corner onto another street before he even walked up the sidewalk to the house...

Which brought him to the door, and how he was about to knock but putting it off, thinking of a thousand reasons why his castle, even now, was a better place to be than here, and that he should turn around and forget all about this little expedition.

_Brilliant plan, but the goblins locked the castle. And the town. And the Labyrinth is sulking and won't let me in. Damn._

So Jareth took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

* * *

Toby, now at the tender age of six, was racing through the house, holding her homework hostage as he tried to get Sarah to play. She had just cornered him when there was a knock at the door, and Toby took advantage of the distraction to race by her, yelling, "I'll get it! I'll get it!"

By the time he'd half-opened the door, Sarah had once again caught him, and she swooped down to pick him up.

"Hah! I caught you, you little bugger! Now give me my homework!" The visitor-- Sarah couldn't quite see them through the door-- snorted and she thought briefly of making a sarcastic comment, but refrained in favor of repossessing her homework. She and Toby grappled for all of twenty seconds before she won, and she set him down.

"I'll play Scrabble with you after I've dealt with our guest," she told Toby as he started to pout. "Go ahead and pull the box out, and wait in my room, okay?" Toby brightened at this, and clomped up the stair to find the game.

Sarah now turned to the door, and finished opening it. She saw who her visitor was and promptly moved to shut the door again.

"Now wait a minute!" A hand pushed against the door and the voice sounded offended. "I take the time to knock_ politely_ on your door, and you have the gall to _shut it in my face?"_

"Yes," she said simply, "As a matter of fact, I do."

* * *

Jareth growled at this. He pushed harder at the door, and said, "I really need to talk to you, you know, otherwise I wouldn't be here."

The door swung open suddenly, and Jareth hurried to regain his balance.

"So speak quickly," Sarah snapped from the doorframe.

"Fine. I need to stay here for a week or two."

"What? No!"

"There's nowhere else for me to go, otherwise I wouldn't be here!" Jareth huffed. "And I can't just bother anyone else, because the only two who remember the Labyrinth live here. So--"

"Why?"

"Why what? Why ask you? I just explained that!"

"No, why do you need a place to stay?" Sarah looked mistrusting, and Jareth took a deep breath before answering.

_She's going to laugh herself to death when she hears this,_ Jareth sulked, _but it's the only way... Damn it all to hell!_

Sarah watched the Goblin King compose himself. She was wary of him, and half-expected to hear Toby start yelling to tell her that the goblins were visiting again. Of course, all their visits up till now had been friendly, as the goblins often snuck in to play with her or Toby. But if the Goblin King was here...

"I need a place to stay for a few weeks while renovations are done on the castle..." Jareth's voice cut through her mental meandering.

"Renovations? You need to stay here because you're having a new wing to the castle put on or something?" Sarah looked at him disdainfully. If that was the case, wouldn't he have stayed in the Underground?

"No," Jareth started, "Renovations because the Bog flooded and the water from the Bog flooded the Labyrinth, and spilled over into the Goblin City and my castle."

Sarah blinked, then blinked again. The Bog of Eternal Stench flooded, and that was why he was here? That was so ridiculous that she started to laugh. When she composed herself enough to speak, she asked, "Did Sir Didymus get out in time, or did he get hit by the flood waters?"

"I think he went Aboveground with Hoggle, Ludo, and the Fireys a week ago."

"Why didn't you leave a week ago?" Sarah's animosity towards the Goblin King hadn't entirely vanished, but a lot of it had turned to curiosity and mirth.

"I am a king, I had to stay and supervise the plans of the renovations," Jareth said this as regally as possible, but Sarah could detect the bruised ego in that simple sentence, which lead to her reply...

"You were putting off asking me, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I was," Jareth thought... Or he thought he'd thought, until he heard Sarah snicker.

_Oh shit, I said that out loud! Of all the stupid things to..._ Jareth's panicked rambling was cut short by Sarah.

"You might as well come in," she said, "And we can discuss this over Scrabble."

That was absolutely the last thing that Jareth expected her to say, and he watched her walk back in the house for a minute before what she said truly registered and he followed her inside.

She turned and hopped up the steps, and walked into her room, and Jareth noted the many changes that had occurred there. The walls were a darker color now, and there wasn't as many toys and doodads lying around. The biggest change was the sheer amount of books in the room. The cubbyholes that had once held Sarah's stuffed animals were gone, and in their stead was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, and it was packed with novels, plays, and other such things. Despite the bookshelf, there were books laying on the dresser and nightstand, stacked semi-neatly and fairly high. Jareth turned to look at Sarah.

"Yeah, I know, it's practically a library in here, so stop giving me that look-"

"Oi, Sarah, is that your boyfriend?" Toby was eyeing Jareth and Sarah choked on whatever she had been about to say.

"No!" she yelped, even as Jareth grinned wickedly.

"Yes-" Toby's eyes widened "-she just doesn't know it yet." Sarah sputtered, and Jareth worried, for the tiniest nanosecond, that he'd pushed her too far. But, hey, if he got kicked out, it was worth it to see the look on her face.

"JARETH! Shut UP, you royal pain in the ass! And don't you listen to him, Toby!"

"Now, now, Sarah, you shouldn't say bad words in front of Toby..." Jareth trailed off at the glare she shot his way, and grinned in a _you-wouldn't-really-try-to-hurt-me-'cause-I-**am**-dangerous_ way.

* * *

"Ymir is NOT a word, Jareth," Sarah said mildly as Toby shifted on her lap. The first game had been won quickly by the Goblin King-- _Who knew the man is a walking dictionary?_ her mind grumbled-- and she and Toby had teamed up in a desperate attempt to salvage their pride through winning the second game.

"Yes and no. It is a word, but it's a name-"

"There is no way in hell that is an English word," Sarah drawled. "If you aren't going to use English words, then I won't either. You have been warned." Jareth mock-glared at her.

"I'm not taking the word back." Sarah shrugged at this.

"Your loss," she said off-handedly. As she started to arrange the tiles on the board, Toby started to pelt Jareth with questions... again.

"So, whose room are you going to stay in? You could probably use the guest bedroom--"

"If you can find the bed," Sarah muttered darkly. "You can use my room, I'll sleep on the couch." Jareth frowned.

"That is very generous of you, and your hospitality is appreciated, but how are you going to explain it to your parents? And are you done with that word yet?"

"Insomnia, and yes, I am done." Sarah sat back with a satisfied smirk. "Hah."

Toby leaned forward.

"H-A-N-A-S-H-I-M-A-S-U. Hanashimasu. Huh?"

"It's Japanese, and the 'su' is pronounced 'ss'." Sarah grinned at Jareth. "Want to go back to English words now?"

"No," Jareth growled. "Pass me a dictionary." Sarah reached past the Webster's dictionary that the trio had been using and grabbed a Japanese-English dictionary off her nightstand. She flipped through it to locate the page ("_It's written in the Japanese format, and since I doubt you read hiragana or katakana, you'll have to let me find it." "How will we know you aren't cheating?" "Because the romaji is written after the word._"), found it, and handed the book to Jareth.

"Speak or speaks, the positive form of. What?"

"It's kind of like can and can't. 'Hanashimasu' is the positive one, so it would be 'can speak'. 'Hanashimasen' is the negative form, so it would be 'can't speak'. Understand?"

Toby shook his head 'no' rather vehemently, while Jareth nodded slowly.

"Game over. I win again." Sarah looked at the board and snorted.

"Irony, sarcasm, or both?" Sarah asked Jareth dryly. Jareth raised an eyebrow and smirked, but said nothing.

"Sarah? What's 'V-E-X-A-T-I-O-U-S' mean?" Toby looked adorably puzzled, and that made Sarah and Jareth grin.

"Vexatious," Jareth began, "Means--"

"It's another word for 'Jareth'," Sarah told Toby.

"I'm not that bad! At least, not to other people," Jareth protested, but Sarah gave him a withering glance.

"Really? So it's only me you harass? Asshole." Toby shook himself out of his confusion at this.

"Oooooooo! Sarah said a _bad word!_ I'm telling Dad!"

"No you're not, and it's time for bed, kiddo. Scoot." Sarah _nudged_ Toby off the bed, and Jareth coughed to disguise his laughter.

* * *

Sarah was looking at him in a way that made Jareth feel distinctly uneasy- she looked thoughtful.

_Probably planning to push me in front of a bus,_ he groused. _Or something equally pleasant._

"I'm going to have to stay in here a while before I head out to sleep on the couch," Sarah told him. "Or else Dad and Karen will get suspicious."

_Oh good, she's thinking about this... predicament and not me. That means she's not plotting anything... I hope..._

"That will be fine," Jareth said dismissively, attention turned to the window.

_Why the hell is Ravyn here?_ He thought, looking at the bird with a suspicious glare.

"...reth? Jareth? JARETH!" Startled, he looked over to see Sarah glaring at him.

"Stop spazzing, alright? Jeez, some people... Anyway, I asked you what you were going to do during the day. I mean, you can't just hang around here all day... Maybe you could stay at the shop with me, but what happens if Annie drops by?... Hn. You really are a pain, you know that?..." Sarah trailed off, muttering to herself about places and people, none of which made any sense to Jareth.

"Sarah, I need to speak with someone," Jareth announced suddenly. "Could you open the window?" Sarah looked at him as if she had forgotten he was there (_she probably did,_ he snorted) before blinking once and opening the window. Ravyn flew in as soon as the window was open, and she landed on Sarah's shoulder.

_::Jareth, Aodhan said to tell you that the renovations will take a little longer than we thought...::_ Ravyn's voice echoed through their heads.

"How much longer is 'longer than you thought'?" Sarah asked suspiciously.

_::We originally estimated two to three weeks, but a complication has shown up, so now it's more like five to seven weeks.::_

"Five to seven?! How bad of a complication is this?" Sarah asked, and Jareth sighed heavily.

"Would this be worse than the dragon incident, by any chance?"

_::...Think more along the High Court incident, times ten...::_

"Damn."

"The what and the what incident?" Sarah's curiosity was jumping up and down and screaming at this. Did Jareth say dragon? Who, or what, was the High Court, and what happened to make it worse than the dragon incident, whatever that was. _Tell me tell me tell me!_ the 'inner Sarah' chanted.

"I'll tell you later," Jareth muttered darkly. "Thank you, Ravyn, is that all?"

_::Yes. I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news.::_

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure I can put up with him for a while." Sarah's response surprised Jareth... yet again.

_Huh,_ he thought. _So I'm someone to be 'put up with', am I? Interesting...

* * *

_

Sarah had laid out the rules to him barely twenty minutes before her parents walked out the door. She'd even wrote them out, and in her odd half-scrawl was written the following:

**Rules for Jareth for However Long He Plans on Not Getting Kicked Out:**

1) No magic in front of the other occupants of the house/guests.

2) Glittery residue from magic used will be cleaned up _IMMEDIATELY _after it is produced.

3) Touching any of the books without permission will earn Jareth a one-way ticket to the attic, where he will stay for the remainder of this visit should he break this rule.

4) Stay in owl form when going _ANYWHERE_ outside the house with Sarah, unless instructed otherwise.

5) Do _**NOT**_, under any circumstances, give Toby sugar. Only Sarah or Karen may give Toby sugar, since anyone else gives him far too much and a sugar-high Toby is not a pretty sight.

6) Rules are subject to change, but a consensus must be reached by both Jareth and Sarah before any rules are added.

Jareth was committing them to memory now, even as he listened to Sarah talk to her parents. Not so he could follow them, of course. So he could find all the loopholes... _After all,_ he thought, _being around goblins has taught me quite a bit about... bending the rules...

* * *

_

A/N:: Yes, I am aware that there is some serious OOCness in this story... This will probably be updated erratically, especially with end of the year crap at school- finals, papers, article notebook... sigh Ah, well, I will finish this eventually, and I imagine my muse will have plenty of fun ideas for this story... (evil grin) Review, people, I am open to suggestions with this story!

* * *

Oro: READ THIS! I finally got Word for my computer, so I spell checked the whole story, and dear deities, what a mess! It is edited, and I may or may not (cough cough did cough cough) tweak the wording or the paragraph structure, ect. If you read this before and think it'll be drastically different, well, sucks for you, it ain't. There just aren't anymore spelling or grammatical errors that my computer spotted.

Future chapters will be written on Word, so I should only have to do this once...


	2. The First Week, Part One

Thy Bog Overfloweth

Chapter 2

* * *

The first day of the first week, Sarah brought Jareth with her to work. She'd explained her job at the bookstore- usually shelving books or working at the counter, but the employees had other odd jobs that they did sometimes, simply because they needed doing. It was a fairly small store, but Sarah liked working there- and she'd beaten it into the Goblin King's head that if anything he did get her fired, she'd be more than happy to try one of those recipes for wild fowl she'd found in one of Karen's cookbooks.

He'd paled slightly when she said that, but gave no other sign that this threat meant anything to him.

He also didn't promise anything, and Sarah was too busy getting ready to go to realize this.

* * *

Jareth, in the form of a snowy owl, watched silently from the passenger's seat in the car Sarah was borrowing from her cousin. She had forced him to put a seatbelt on (well, she'd forced him to hold still while she fastened the seatbelt for him) and he felt, for the first time in his owl shape, conspicuously inadequate. Though slightly larger than a normal owl, the seat belt buckle seemed to come up to where his stomach was, in this form. He felt short. Vertically challenged.

Quite little, really.

Clicking his beak in irritation, Jareth leaned more than a little when the car turned sharply, and before he could catch his balance again, the blasted thing turned the other direction, and had Sarah chosen to look over then, she'd have seen a scowling (hard to manage that with a beak and feathers, but manage he did) owl as it staggered to one side and then leaned almost completely over to compensate for the inertia of the car as it tried to right itself.

Had it been anyone other than himself, Jareth was sure he would have been amused, at the very least, by such a predicament. Unfortunately, he was... far too close to the situation to be anything other than annoyed. Then the damned vehicle had the nerve to slow to a stop, and despite the way Sarah decelerated for a good twenty five feet, the sudden jerk nearly choked him on the seatbelt. Jareth hissed, loudly, in displeasure.

It was going to be a long ride to Sarah's store every morning.

Sarah glanced over at Jareth when she heard him hiss, and frowned sympathetically.

_Note to self- have Jareth ride in the car as a human... elf... Fae... Goblin ruler... until we reach our intended destination and then force him to turn owl..._

"It's only another four minutes," she offered when he shot her a particularly nasty glare. When he didn't stop glaring, she winced slightly, knowing that even the short period of time left in the car would leave him irritable. For how long exactly, she didn't know, but irritated animals tended to bite, and an irritated Goblin King could do much worse.

Right, so give him a stack of comedy novels to keep him busy until lunch...

They'd discussed, briefly, what Jareth would do to pass the time while Sarah worked. There was a little break room above the shop where Jareth could stay, and she'd brought a stack of books for him to read. Sarah had told him that she'd visit him upstairs for lunch (bringing food for him, of course) and they'd eat together and she'd stay up there until her half-hour lunch break was over. From there, he'd only be up there for another two hours, and then her shift was finished.

It left him with way too much time alone to get in trouble, but Sarah didn't have much of a choice. Because he would be unsupervised for such a long time, she'd been sure to grab some books off her bookshelves that were not only highly amusing but surprisingly addictive. She hoped that the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy books would buy her a day or three- hell, if she was lucky, they'd last the week on that series alone.

She didn't think she'd be so lucky, but hey, she could hope, right?

* * *

Jareth was disgustingly relieved when Sarah parked the car.

_Here am I,_ he grumbled mentally, _The great Goblin King, son of the High King of the Unseelie Courts, and I find myself queasy from riding in a mortal vehicle. I won't stand for it!_ He decided. _I can overcome **any** mortal technology!_

The Goblin King watched Sarah undo her seatbelt and twist around in her seat to grab a pile of books. He shuffled impatiently as she fiddled with the buckle of his seatbelt, listened as she apologized when it got stuck, and snickered inwardly when she finally cursed and just wrestled him out of the straps without unbuckling the belt. He hooted softly when she absent-mindedly stroked the feathers between his eyes, and hid his disappointment when she stopped to open the back door to the shop. He didn't ask her to do it again for two reasons: 1) it would be embarrassing, and Kings, even Goblin Kings, had far too much pride to put themselves in an embarrassing situation and 2) if he alerted Sarah as to what she had been doing, he suspected she wouldn't repeat the action.

Jareth looked around the cozy little room, it had three worn armchairs and a small table. There was also a dusty window looking out over the employee parking and the roads beyond said parking lot. Despite being small and a bit cramped, the room seemed comfortable enough. Sarah put him down in one of the chairs, put the books on the table, and wiped a great deal of the dust off the window with the side of her hand.

"You may return to your..." Sarah paused, and Jareth wondered at this, what was she waiting for? "...humanoid form," she said decisively.

_She doesn't realize what I am!_ The thought struck him upside the head in a similar fashion (and with similar force) as the calculus textbook she'd whacked him with earlier. Jareth allowed himself to smirk as an owl, but once he was back to his bipedal form, his face was expressionless. He realized with a tad of surprise that there was open curiosity in her gaze, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Are those the only two forms you can shift to?" Sarah asked. Jareth had to hide a grin.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Sarah," he mock-scolded.

Sarah snorted. "I am nowhere near graceful enough to be a cat. And anyway, the rest of the saying is 'satisfaction brought him back.'"

Jareth pretended to consider this for a moment. "I agree with the first statement, but not with the second. No cat in my realm ever revived after being curious about a Goblin's antics."

"I suspect the Goblins don't revive from their own antics," Sarah muttered. This time Jareth did grin.

"I'll show you my other forms later," he promised, "in a place where I won't get stuck between furniture."

* * *

Sarah had been working for about an hour when she heard a strange thumping noise upstairs. It was more than slightly muted, as if someone was trying to keep it quiet, and it wasn't bothering the costumers, so she just shrugged it off, making a mental note to ask Jareth about it later.

* * *

Jareth had sensed the arrival of the first Goblin and sighed. Much as he hated to admit it, the book the girl had picked out for him really was entertaining, to say the least. He'd just gotten to the part when the Vogons were destroying the Earth when Slidge popped in.

Jareth put the book down, careful to memorize the page number, and turned to the Goblin.

"Hello, Slidge," Jareth greeted.

"'Allo, King," Slidge replied.

"What brings you here?" The King asked. Slidge tilted his head, and the leathery skin on the fairly small Goblin's brow crinkled.

"Dunno," Slidge said at last. "Just am, I guess. Didja hear about the 'vations delay?"

"Yes, I did. Where are you staying, Slidge? Are you staying Above, or did you find shelter down in the Underground?"

"I'm stayin' with my ma's clan," Slidge said, nodding and whispering in a conspiring manner, "They don't snore as loud as my da's clan."

"I can see where that would be helpful," Jareth agreed. The Goblin's tail thumped against the chair it was sitting on, and Jareth winced. He cast a spell to muffle the noise, but he couldn't be sure how well it worked. The spell was put to the test when the Goblin's tail wagged harder as his two siblings popped in to chat with the King.

* * *

When Sarah juggled the food containers up the stairs to eat with Jareth, the door swung open just as she reached the landing, and she shot a grateful look at Jareth, who'd opened the door for her.

"I ordered Chinese a couple of minutes ago," Sarah explained. "And DJ is taking care of the shop right now. How far have you gotten in your book?"

"I'm right at the end, with the mice," Jareth said as he took a bag and started to rustle through it. He started to pull food out, puzzled over two sets of sticks, and accepted a Styrofoam plate. He piled random foods on his plate and glared at the two sticks again. Sarah noticed his confusion at the eating utensils and smirked.

"Those are chopsticks. Look, you break them apart and hold them like this..." Sarah demonstrated how to hold the chopsticks, and then how to use them to grab food. Jareth protested this second lesson because the food she'd grabbed was from his plate. Sarah just grinned at him and ate the stolen dumpling. Her grin widened throughout the meal as she watched Jareth struggle with the chopsticks and react to the various foodstuffs as he tasted it.

_Mental note: order more rice next time,_ Sarah thought, watching the high-and-mighty Goblin King curse as he dropped more rice into his lap.

Unlike the ride to the store, Jareth was in his Fae form on the car ride back to the house. Sarah had stowed him in the front seat again, and she'd managed to finally undo the seatbelt. She then ordered him to "regain his bipedal persona; and fasten your seatbelt." He'd done the former gratefully, he argued the latter.

"It is undignified to wear such an infernal contraption," Jareth started, and Sarah effectively shut him up by saying,

"It's more _dignified_ than watching your_ brains_ splatter across the road if we get in an accident and you go flying through the windshield because _you wouldn't wear the damn seatbelt_."

Unlike their luncheon together, the trip back was also laced with amusing dialogue.

"Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is an extremely odd book. Highly amusing, and delightfully intricate, but undeniably odd."

"It's not odd," Sarah argued. "It is extraordinarily unique!"

"Which is another way of saying it's odd," Jareth replied. He hid a grin as Sarah sighed long-sufferingly.

"It's nowhere near as odd as a certain _someone_ I could name," she muttered, and Jareth paused.

"Point taken," he agreed. "It's nowhere near as odd as you are."

Her response was to hit him upside the head.

* * *

_How the hell does he manage it?_ Sarah wondered. _He always knows the **exact** question to ask to make me the most embarrassed!_

The second morning of the first week, Jareth had commandeered her bathroom to take a shower, and while looking for towels- one of which he dropped on the floor after towel-drying his hair- he'd found a box of tampons. He'd then proceeded to march into her room, where she was waiting to use the shower, dressed in only the towel he'd wrapped around his waist to ask her what "these weird things" were used for.

"Um... they, uh... Once a month...err... When women... gah! Ask something else!"

Later, Sarah had to bully Jareth into the car, and he'd spent the first ten minutes of the ride complaining about how violent she was.

"If you don't shut up," Sarah told him through gritted teeth, "You'll wish you'd stayed at your goddamn Castle of Stench!"

"Why, Sarah," he'd purred. "I'm hurt-"

"Not yet, you aren't!"

When Sarah brought the pizza upstairs, she found the Goblin King sitting amongst a horde of Goblins, apparently naming their kids.

She arrived it time to hear him name the last little Goblin boy- "And from now on, you will be known as 'Zaphod'"- and grinned.

"Tomorrow, you read 'A Nameless Witch'," Sarah informed him after the last of the Goblins popped out. "You need a break from the 'Hitchhikers' trilogy."

He'd looked up at her, saw her smirk, and stuck his tongue out at her. When she laughed at him for the childish gesture, he denied that he'd ever done it and called her delusional.

* * *

Jareth had come running when he'd heard her muffled shriek, and crashed through her bedroom door with mild panic written on his face. "Sarah! What's wrong?"

She looked shell-shocked, and he wondered at this, until he noticed her gaze was riveted to the calendar on one of her bookshelves. Two days from now, April fourth, was circled in green pen with a little smiley face on it.

"It's almost Toby's birthday! Aack! I haven't gotten him anything, and we don't have cake mix and stuff! Move your ass, Goblin King, we're off!"

The first place he'd followed the more than slightly hassled Sarah into was a video game store. Or at least, that's what the sign outside said. What that meant, Jareth hadn't the foggiest, but he was rather disappointed to find that they were just brightly colored boxes. Then he saw another box, with little people running around in it, seemingly controlled by the little girl, connected to the bigger box through a lump of plastic and buttons and wires.

Sarah ignored him until she'd purchased a box, a little one with a picture of a dragon and a knight side by side with a matching book. She'd snapped him out of his fascination with the big box by giving him a helpful shove towards the door, and then proceeded to a general store.

She purchased a box of eggs, milk, and vegetable oil, despite his exasperated protests that they already had those items at her house- he would know, he nearly turned the kitchen inside-out looking for food that morning. She then bought a box with a picture of a chocolate cake on it and several cans of stuff labeled 'frosting'. Then she herded him to the gift section and asked his advice on which wrapping paper to buy and Jareth was pleasantly surprised when she actually agreed on his choice- a clear, deep blue splashed liberally with gold and silver streaks.

He was perplexed by the cash register and the way the doors slid open whenever anyone stepped near them- he couldn't sense any magic in the items, but they moved as if magicked. Sarah promised to explain the best she could later, and when he asked if they were returning to the store tomorrow...

"Hell, no," Sarah said with a grin. "Tomorrow, we bake!" She then cackled, which gave Jareth the rather unpleasant sensation of ice water running down his back.

* * *

Oro: Well, this came out differently than this one planned.  
Sarah: You mean you actually plan it?  
Jareth: Out of curiosity, what are those things used for?  
Oro and Sarah: Shut it.  
Oro: This one does NOT own Labyrinth Jareth: Or its characters Sarah: Or the inaptly named 'Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' Trilogy. Or 'A Nameless Witch', though all books mentioned are excellent and this one encourages you to read them. Further bulletins as events warrant, review, and once again, this one is open to suggestions and criticism.


	3. The First Week, Part Two

Thy Bog Overfloweth

Chapter 3

_Sarah really has the oddest dreams_, Jareth mused. It was the end of the second day- actually, the beginning of the third, but it was still only a little past midnight, so it could count either way.

Sarah had waited until nearly eleven to retreat to the couch, and the two had spent much of the time with amusing banter and (fairly) friendly arguing. Most of the arguing was about what they'd do once Sarah returned to school in a week and a half; she suggested he stay in her room at the house and he suggested he stay at her dorm as a cat or some such animal. She asked what he'd do all day, he gave her a very wicked grin and told her he'd make sure that at least some of the furniture survived, and so on.

He'd woken about five minutes ago, suddenly ravenous and contemplating what to do about it. Sarah had taught him to use the microwave, she promised to teach him about the stove tomorrow; he could look in the cool-box and see what there was to eat. Having made his decision, he'd traipsed downstairs, ready to storm the kitchens...

Only to stop and feel guilty as he saw the couch and watched Sarah shift uncomfortably on it.

She was asleep, naturally, but her restlessness- caused as much by her location as her dreams- was more than enough to make him feel bad.

_And I'm going to be staying here for **how** long? We shall have to work out something else tomorrow..._ Jareth stopped and rethunk his thoughts.

_Next up, Jimmeney Cricket,_ he groused, but he made a mental note to talk to Sarah about their sleeping arrangements in the morning anyway.

It was around then that he became curious enough to look in on Sarah's dreams. As the King of the Goblins and the Guardian of the Labyrinth, he was expected to use people's dreams against them. For him to do this, he was granted power of the realm of dreams and nightmares; this was not restricted to 'seeing' the subconscious stories after the person at hand had woke. And so, after having made himself a sandwich (peanut butter and ham, in case you were wondering. A Goblin delicacy...) he settled down on the chair across from Sarah's couch to 'tune in' to Sarah's dream...

Which brought him to the aforementioned thought, _Sarah has the oddest dreams._

Most people, he'd found, dreamt in muted colors and the image was skewed, blurry, with the annoying tendency to fade almost completely at random intervals. Had he known about it, Jareth would have likened Sarah's dream to an HD television documentary. Since he had no idea what the hell the author was talking about there, Jareth settled for describing the dream as "crystal clear and blaringly bright."

The dream could be summarized thusly:

_Karen told Sarah _(from Sarah's point of view, but the dream later flickered between that and third person) _to go clean out her_ (Sarah's) _closet. Sarah, for some odd reason dressed up as a giant chicken, had argued that she didn't have time because she had to get to work. Karen promptly informed Sarah that if she ever wanted to see her precious books again, she would march up stairs and clean her closet, "this INSTANT, young lady!"_

_Sarah, fearing for her books, flew upstairs using the chicken costume. She entered her room and nothing seemed out of place except the owl that was hanging from the ceiling upside down and laughing at her. As she pulled open the closet doors, however, she was surprised to find herself in the Goblin City. Karen chose this moment in her dream to swoop in and tell Sarah to get hopping, the closet wasn't going to clean itself out. Sarah protested weakly that to clean the city would surely make her late for work, and the owl laughed so hard it fell off the ceiling._

Shaking his head at the sheer insanity that Sarah came up with, Jareth finished his sandwich and reached over to shake her awake. Sarah woke with a start and blinked blearily up at him for a few seconds, her brain trying to piece together the _yes, that's Jareth,_ and the _yes, he woke me up,_ and the _yes, he does seem to be laughing at me..._ The last wasn't hard to believe, so it followed that the first two were also true. That didn't mean she wasn't still confused; knowing the _what_ of it didn't mean she knew the _why_ of it.

Lying with ease, Jareth 'explained' himself by saying, "I forgot how to use the microwave."

_Just because I have developed a conscious doesn't mean **she** has to know that.

* * *

_

In the end, she'd just made popcorn and they both sat in the kitchen and ate it. She then proceeded to shoo him away from the couch- which he was chivalrously proclaiming his so she would return to her bed- in order to sleep for another seven hours. She woke to stumble into the kitchen again, commandeer the coffee pot and two mugs, and stumble upstairs to her room.

She found Jareth perched on what looked like an enormous feather pillow, and wondered briefly why it was in her room, but the coffee had yet to be consumed and the pillow/bean-bag chair didn't really register.

"I bring tidings of joy," Sarah announced. Jareth looked up and she lifted the coffee pot. "It comes in the form of a caffeinated beverage." Jareth snorted, but he took one of the mugs from her, so Sarah supposed he was one of the few people capable of dealing with sarcasm before breakfast.

"So what's today's schedule? Baking and work?"

Sarah nodded in answer to his question as she poured coffee. She then gestured to the pillow thing with her mug. "Where'd Poofzilla come from?"

That had Jareth raising an eyebrow, but he replied by summoning a crystal and dropping it, and the end result was another 'Poofzilla'.

Sarah nodded sagely and flopped on Poofzilla Jr. "You ever baked anything?" Jareth shook his head. "Then this should be amusing. Karen and Dad already left, and Toby is at his friend's house, so once we're up and dressed, we'll get started. We can leave it to cool while I'm at work, but we'll have to put it somewhere so Merlin doesn't get it. Sound good?"

"I understood very little of that, so I'm going to go with 'yes'."

"Good enough."

* * *

"Assistant Cook Jareth, read the first direction on the box."

"One: Preheat oven to three hundred forty five degrees Fahrenheit, and prepare two circular pans for use," Jareth recited dramatically.

"Good. Watch this." Sarah turned the knob on the left to 'Bake' and the knob on the right to four hundred degrees.

"Uh, Sarah-" Jareth started, but Sarah cut him off.

"The oven's really old- Karen keeps saying she'll go out and get a new one and never does- so when you bake something you have to add fifteen degrees, and when you broil something you have to add twenty five degrees. It's not crucial to remember that since I doubt you'll be baking much, much less without me around, but it's still fairly important." Jareth nodded, and read aloud the next step.

"Two: Add water, vegetable oil, and eggs to cake mix in a medium bowl. Stir for two minutes or until most of the lumps are gone. Seems fairly straight-forward. We need..."

"Two eggs, one-third cup of vegetable oil and one-half cup of water. It's really sad that I have that memorized." Sarah was already pulling out the measuring cups. "The eggs are in the refrigerator, could you pull them out?" A glass bowl made its way to the counter beside the measuring cups. Jareth set the eggs down and watched Sarah take the lid off of the vegetable oil- he wasn't sure when she'd got it, he was busy wondering how mad Sarah would be if he started to juggle the eggs and _accidentally_ dropped one or two.

Turns out, he didn't need to plan trouble, because it came in the form of a Goblin.

When Slidge showed up, Sarah let him sit on the counter, as long as he didn't touch anything. Slidge had agreed to this, but he'd knocked over the oil while trying to watch Sarah fill the measuring cup with water. Jareth swooped in and recapped the oil, but not before a lot of it spilled on the floor. Sarah stepped right into the spilled oil and grimaced, but told the others that she'd clean it up later. She let Slidge crack the eggs, and had Jareth mix the batter. She managed to pour the mixture in the non-stick pans and slide them in the oven, but the journey back to the counter, to turn on the timer, was far more eventful.

Sarah slipped on the oil and went down _hard_, and while flailing, she hit the wooden spoon that Jareth had used to stir the cake batter. Acting somewhat like a self-shooting catapult, the spoon arced through the air and hit Jareth on the nose, batter-side first. Slidge laughed so hard that he fell off the counter, falling on Sarah, who was attempting to get up, and throwing her off balance so she fell again.

Slidge was, at this point, laughing so hard he couldn't breathe, and Sarah soon joined in when she saw the look on Jareth's face. If you can't imagine it on your own, here's a hint: imagine the Goblin King, standing tall and proud, with an expression that is startled and slightly dumbstruck, rapidly approaching pissed off, with cake batter- the chocolate stuff- splattered across his face, most of it had hit the bridge of his nose but some had been flung outward, so he looked like a dotty raccoon. Now imagine how the spoon fell, hitting Jareth's clean, grey-white shirt several times on the way down.

Yeah, that glare was developing _very_ quickly- or at least, it was until he caught sight of Sarah and Slidge and had to laugh at them. This set Sarah and Slidge into fresh peals of laughter, and the cycle continued until Sarah asked Jareth to help her up.

"Ya alright?" Slidge asked Sarah when she winced while standing.

"I think my ass is one giant bruise now, but it's nothing _too_ bad..."

* * *

Sarah had shoved Jareth in the shower and threw his shirt in the washing machine. Since the cake was done before the dryer- and Jareth, which Sarah wondered over; he didn't have _that_ much hair but he took longer showers than she did- Sarah pulled it out and let the cakes cool in the pans on the oven. Jareth sauntered into the kitchen not ten minutes after she'd taken the cakes out, wearing his pants and an oversized t-shirt she had. It barely fit him, but his shirt would be done soon.

"Almost ready?" He asked, and she nodded.

"I'll put the cake in a container soon, and then we'll grab your shirt and go."

Fifteen minutes later, Jareth was once again forced into the evil _thing_ Sarah called a car.

"Why can't we walk?"

"Because it would take too long."

"I could teleport us there, you know."

"Yeah, wouldn't _that_ be fun to explain to my boss. _My friend poofed us over here using magic, which is why you didn't hear me walk in and why my car isn't in the parking lot._ It really isn't that bad, Jareth. You don't even get car sick."

* * *

The muffled thumping that she'd heard the other day hadn't returned, but Sarah listened carefully all the same. Slidge wasn't making that an easy task, since he was following her around and making faces at the customers and such, and on more than one occasion she had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing at one of Slidge's remarks.

Jareth looked up from the book when he heard the doorknob start to turn; it wasn't Sarah approaching and he wasn't sure who it was otherwise. He did the only thing he could think of:

He turned owl.

Which was why, approximately five minutes later, Sarah was ranting.

"Of all the stupid things to deal with... Why this? WHY? And why NOW?"

Sarah's ranting continued as she carried a very disgruntled owl through the parking lot.

"And it just HAD to be my boss who walked in. _Sarah, there's a rabid owl in the break room! Get rid of it Sarah!_ Pah. Rabid owl, my ass. You weren't even doing anything..." Sarah opened the car and tossed Jareth in. He screeched at her, and she glared. "Stay here, got it?" When the owl nodded, she tossed a book in. "If you have to turn human or whatever, make sure no one's around to see you." Sarah then turned and stormed back into the building to be lectured again as Jareth settled back to read 'A Nameless Witch'.

* * *

"You have frosting in your hair," Jareth informed Sarah as she (somewhat sloppily) used a tube of frosting to spell out HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOBY.

"Damn it," she growled, and pushed the offending hair back behind her ear with the back of her hand- or tried to, anyway. It didn't quite work, and Jareth smirked at her obvious frustration. Then he took pity on her and gathered her hair into a ponytail for her, magicking up a hair holder.

"Better?"

"Yeah, thanks," Sarah told him, then finished the Y in TOBY and asked, "What d'ya think?"

"It's not as crooked as it would be if I tried, so I guess that's good."

"'Not as crooked'? Are you one of those people with really messy handwriting?" Sarah was grinning.

"...Maybe." _It's not like I can help it,_ Jareth added in his head.

Sarah's grin widened. "Yeah, uh-huh. I bet."

"Oh, and I suppose YOUR handwriting is perfect?"

"No, but it's probably a lot better than whatever chicken-scratch _you've_ got."

"Unfortunately, you are right." _My handwriting looks like the scratches of a chicken being chased by Goblins..._

"Of course I'm right, otherwise you would have been writing with frosting, now wouldn't you?"

* * *

Jareth watched as Sarah as she cut the paper to wrap Toby's presents, then smirked as he watched her struggle with the double-sided tape. It kept sticking to her hands, and when she went to get it off, it would stick to her other hand, and she'd start all over, with the opposite hand. He sat back on Poofzilla Jr. and grinned when Sarah glared half-heartedly at him.

"You _could_ help, ya know," she growled, and Jareth waved a hand lazily.

"But it is _so_ much more amusing to watch you try and figure it out yourself."

"Oh, yeah, well see if I save _you_ any birthday cake tomorrow!" And with that, Sarah grabbed her pajamas, tossed the wrapped presents in the closet, and marched off to the bathroom to get ready for bed... well, started to, anyway.

Sarah was turning the knob to escape to the Batcave to change into her superhero outfit (i.e., change into her p.j.s so she could go to bed) for the night when Jareth called out for her to wait. She looked back at him, raising an eyebrow in a silent, _well, what d'you want?_

She noticed the breath he took before speaking, and the slight hesitation in his voice.

"I do not mean to undermine your hospitality, but it reflects poorly upon me as a guest to put you out of your room on my behalf."

_That's appropriately kingly, isn't it?_ Jareth wondered. Then, _It damn well better be, I'm not going to repeat it!_

To both their surprise, Sarah began to laugh.

"A sleepover with the Goblin King! Oh, jeez. Well, what would _you_ suggest for where I sleep?"

"Your bed, of course."

"And you?"

A small crystal was all that was necessary to fuse Poofzilla and Poofzilla Jr. to make...

"MegaPoofzilla!" Something about her own statement had Sarah laughing again. She shook her head and grabbed an oversized t-shirt and baggy sweatpants, still snickering. Then she stopped and looked thoughtful.

"What do you wear for pajamas? You're always dressed when I come in. Do you just sleep in your clothes or something?"

"Of course not. You go get dressed in the bathroom, I will change in here."

"Fine, fine, fine. Mr. Bossy." Sarah stuck her tongue out and dodged the pillow he threw at her- _he's starting to pick up on my bad habits, isn't he?_- and retreated into the bathroom.

When she emerged, Jareth was lounging regally on MegaPoofzilla, wearing a pair of navy sleeping pants that looked like they could be made of silk. The overall effect was somewhat ruined by the little owls that were sown on it.

* * *

Oro: glares Between you two and Quill, this chapter has been much harder to write than it could have been.  
Jareth: So?  
Sarah: sighs Oro doesn't own Labyrinth. Or its characters (us). She does own Quill, though he might protest using the word 'own'. Quill is the nameless muse Oro found. Obviously, Oro named him.  
Oro: Speaking of nameless, I don't own 'A Nameless Witch', either. And Quill is weird. He even looks sarcastic, as much as an owl can look sarcastic.  
Jareth: I manage sarcasm very well as an owl.  
Sarah: Really? Fascinating.


	4. The First Week, Part 5, err, 3!

Thy Bog Overfloweth

Chapter Four

* * *

By the time she'd finished laughing, Jareth had several remarks ready to mock _her_ choice of nightwear, but he was thrown off kilter by the pillow she tossed casually at him. He caught it, but the blanket that followed it wrapped itself around his head because Sarah's aim was off (or so she claimed later) and his hands were full of pillow.

"Sweet dreams, Goblin King!" Sarah chirped, and grinned when Jareth finally managed to detangle himself enough to glare at her.

She wasn't able to _quite_ smother the giggle that was trying to force its way out, but she managed to muffle it by burrowing under her blankets.

* * *

It was sheer desperation that had Jareth contemplating what he was about to do.

He'd woken and found himself _ravenous_, but couldn't sneak downstairs for food because Sarah's parents were in the kitchen, and Sarah threatened disembowelment if he used magic on them.

Which was why he was getting ready to poke the sleeping bear...

...Sarah, honestly, had no idea what it was that was aggravating her enough to wake her up, but it was going to _die_. Immediately after she summoned the energy to kill it. For now, she just swatted at it irritably, missing the first time but connecting the second, her hand closing around... a clothes hanger? Clearly something wasn't right. She cracked an eye open to verify that it was, indeed, a clothes hanger in her clenched fist, and noticed there was an oddly sheepish look on the instigator's face. Said instigator noticed she was awake and the weirdest look of hopeful wariness took the place of the sheepish scowl.

"I'm hungry. You need to go foraging."

Sarah growled up at Jareth. "Go forage yourself. _I'm_ sleeping."

Jareth growled right back at her, and Sarah's sleep-clouded mind took the time to note, idly, that his growl was much deeper than hers and sounded like an animal's growling. Like a wolf or a puma or something. Certainly not an owl. Although she supposed it would be rather easier for an owl to hold a clothes hanger than a wolf or a puma, what with the 'talons vs. claws thing'...

"Your parents are downstairs. Go find food." This time he nudged her, and she slid a couple of inches closer to the side of the bed. "Now." Another, stronger push. "Before I starve to death or decide to just enchant your parents." The final shove brought her right to the far edge of the bed, and Sarah rolled over and off in a clumsy, but decidedly well-practiced manner.

"Fine. You _could_ ask nicely, though. In fact, I don't think I'm going anywhere _until_ you ask nicely."

Jareth bared his teeth in irritation at this, but complied immediately. "Sarah, will you _please_ supply food for me before I implode? I beseech you!"

Sarah smirked, and if it seemed a little like the smirks he used so frequently, Jareth didn't notice. "Better." Then she turned and stumbled out the door in an entirely dignified manner, yawning only when she was sure he couldn't see her.

Of course, snitching food out from under the watchful eyes of her parents was not an easy task, but Sarah- now keyed up on coffee- was the girl for the job. When Karen yawned and blinked blearily at the window, Sarah slipped an orange into her pocket. When her father rustled the newspaper noisily, Sarah used the sound to muffle the noise made by the theft of dry cereal. And when she lazily stood and poured herself another coffee, her parents didn't think anything of it, for Sarah often took coffee upstairs with her.

Jareth practically pounced on her to get the food, and Sarah watched the Goblin King scarf down the cereal, following it up by downing half of the coffee- and scalding himself in the process- before eating the orange much more slowly, as if the bite of the hunger had gone and the food could now be enjoyed.

"Jeez. What brought _that_ on?" Sarah had to wait for Jareth to finish his orange before he answered, and even then, it wasn't particularly helpful.

"Haven't the foggiest."

* * *

"So, what's the plan for Toby's birthday party?" Jareth called through the door as Sarah occupied the bathroom.

"His friends are meeting here, and Dad's driving us to a laser-tag arena, and then we come back here for cake n' ice cream n' such."

"Us and we?"

"That," Sarah announced with a grin as she opened the bathroom door with a flourish, "Is completely grammatically incorrect. But yes, 'us and we'. Since I agreed to play baby sitter to the Goblin King, I can't just leave you home with Karen, now can I? I asked Dad yesterday if I could bring a friend, and said it was fine, so 'you' are coming along, too."

"You're not my baby sitter! ... And what's laser tag?"

"You'll see, you'll see." Sarah grinned at him. "However, your regular attire will not be at all appropriate. Can you make yourself look about my age and poof up some normal clothes?"

If he hadn't been a King, Jareth would have voiced the thoughts that ran through his head just then- namely, _derhh-de-der-der-der_- but as it was, he just laughed.

"Piece of cake," he smirked.

"No, we have cake _after_ laser tag, remember?" Sarah grinned. "They do say memory is the first thing to go."

* * *

"So, this is the friend you were telling me about? The one from school?" Mr. Williams looked at Jareth Shee, as Sarah had introduced him. Jareth had snickered internally.

_'Shee' indeed. Jareth the Sidhe, Jareth the Fae, Jareth the Goblin King, she couldn't have made it any more obvious, could she? Hiding in plain sight, and **all that jazz**, as she says. It could be worse... she told me earlier she thought briefly I might be an elf... That would have been a horrible title. Jareth the Elf. Ha!_

She'd made him fly out the window, walk down the street, and knock on the door. He'd had a moment of startling deja vu, standing at the door and arguing about the intelligence of knocking. Sarah had come thundering down the stairs- he'd heard this _through the door_ so he could only imagine how loud it actually was, and ran into the door with a muffled thump when her inertia kept her moving forward instead of stopping as she meant to. He'd smirked at her when she did manage to open the door, raising an eyebrow as he did so, but it quickly turned into a grin as she stuck her tongue out at him. He'd just given in to the oh-so-mature impulse to make a face right when Mr. Williams walked over to greet the newcomer.

His first kingly instinct was to deny having done what he just did, but as a ruler of Goblins and a (relatively) young man, his first reaction was an unabashed grin.

"Yes, sir, I am."

"Sarah's told me a little about you, actually." Mr. Williams didn't see the frantic _go-along-with-whatever-he-says_ look that his daughter shot Jareth from behind Mr. Williams' back.

"Hm. I suppose the customary response is, _all good things, I hope_, but I'm sure if you've only heard good things about me, you've been told about a different person."

"She did warn me you were arrogant and somewhat stubborn," Mr. Williams confessed. "But she said you have a good sense of humor, and-"

"Da-ad! You're embarrassing me in front of my friend!" Sarah whined over-dramatically.

"Of course I am! It's why I'm a dad, to embarrass you and Toby!"

"Oh jeez, she gets it from you, doesn't she?" Jareth groaned. The two Williams looked at him mischievously.

"Naturally." They chorused.

* * *

"Let me get this straight. We run around a dark room, tripping over obstacles, with fake guns and shoot light at each other- for _fun_?" Sarah grinned as Toby and his friends protested.

"It's actually rather fun. You just have to give it a try, Jareth." She leaned over to whisper in his ear, "And if you cheat using magic, the consequences shall be severe... Like no cake, AND only 'Dracula' to read for the next week at work."

"I'm trembling. But I will go into this with an open mind, and won't use my magic crystals to cheat." The sarcasm was easily detected, and Sarah's only response was to roll her eyes.

"We're here!" Mr. Williams announced "I made sure to get us here half an hour early, so you lot could play in the arcade before we get started."

As they all unloaded, Sarah asked her dad, "Are you going to be playing laser-tag with us?"

"Darn right I am!" Mr. Williams laughed. "Payback for all those times you and Toby didn't clean your rooms, or sulked about doing your homework... Revenge, my dear, for I'll get you, and your little dog, too! Mwahahahaha!"

Jareth, who heard the whole thing, drawled, "You better be implying that _Toby's_ her little dog." At that, all three laughed.

Inside, Jareth peered curiously at all of the moving-picture boxes, and similar boxes without screens that had, none-the-less, as many flashing lights as the others. Sarah disappeared for a moment, and he was startled when she reappeared as suddenly as she had gone.

"Here, put these in your pocket. The machines only accept a certain type of coin, so make sure you don't lose them." She grabbed his hand in one of hers and tipped her own cupped hand so the coins spilled on to his gloved hand.

"We should probably play a shooting game- it'll be good practice for laser-tag, and goodness knows what a crippling blow to your ego it would be if you lost to a gaggle of seven year olds. And a nineteen year old, and a forty six year old," She added after a slight pause. "But first, I think you'll like this game..."

Ten minutes later found Sarah watching Jareth play DDR. He'd taken to it immediately, and Sarah soon found that she couldn't keep up with him, he had uncanny reflexes and dominated the match once he understood what he was supposed to do. She shook her head as Jareth pulled off a particularly difficult, particularly fast combination.

"C'mon! I want to play something else!" Sarah said. "There's a competitive driving game. I challenge you to it!"

"Why would I want to drive a fake car? Real cars are bad enough!"

"Because if you crash in a game, no one dies. Are you _really_ going to refuse a challenge? I didn't realize you're a chicken, I always thought you were an owl."

"You realize that I know what you're trying to do, right?" Jareth smirked, but internally, that part of him that related to the Labyrinth the most, that was always looking forward to the next challenge, was jumping up and down and saying _Yay! Fight, fight, fight! Accept the challenge, the gauntlet has been thrown, gird yer loins and go ta battle, you nut! Are you **really** going to let an insult like that pass?_ The rest of him just thought, _dammit, this is really annoying, and she'll be laughing at me because it works._

"Just because you know doesn't make it any less effective."

Jareth sighed long-sufferingly, and replied, "Let me finish this song first."

Sarah would have made him play the game without explaining how, but Jareth demanded she tell him how to _operate this damn thing_; first she had to show him how to adjust the seat, though. She wished (mentally, of course, _she'd_ have to be mental to say it out loud with that silly owl around) that she had a camera to better remember the way he'd looked, crowded into the fake car seat and scowling at the screen. Whoever it was who played this before had to have been extremely short, and Jareth, even with his human glamour, was taller than the average twenty-year-old guy that he seemed to be. Even with jeans and a black tee-shirt, she didn't think Jareth quite pulled off being human, but that might just be because she knew he wasn't. _That,_ Sarah mused, _or the owl feather he braided into his hair._ Jareth had explained earlier that it helped him keep the glamour solid, instead of just illusionary. It had been a wonder that her father had accepted him so quickly.

_Dad must've thought he was someone from the drama department or something,_ Sarah toyed with that idea as the race began. The last play her college had done was Alice in Wonderland. Jareth, she decided, would have made a wonderfully whimsical Cheshire Cat, and he was kooky enough to be the Mad Hatter... Sarah's car nearly drove off the course at the thought of Jareth dressed up as the Queen, or even worse, as Alice. _I am SO not going to be able to look at him the same way, ever again..._ She couldn't help the snicker the picture she'd imagined, and when Jareth looked over to see what was so funny, _his_ car drove into a tree and exploded, startling him so badly that Sarah laughed all the harder.

Jareth was the one that challenged Sarah to the shooting game, having lost- very badly- at the driving game. They were happily shooting away at any moving target when Mr. Williams informed them that the laser-tag arena was being cleared of its previous party and that the Williams group were amassing by the entrance.

Jareth hadn't been surprised when he started pulling ahead by the thousands in the shooting game- his reflexes were much faster than a human's, and his trigger finger reacted upon seeing animated motion, but only after determining whether the target was an enemy or not. Sarah, on the other hand, shot at absolutely anything and kept losing points for hitting civilians. After watching for a few seconds, Mr. Williams snickered, "Sarah, do me a favor and never become a cop. Move it, you two!"

When the employee asked how the teams should be formed, the first suggestion was boys vs. girls. This was unsurprising, but also unfair with or without a basis for comparison, because the only girls present were Sarah and the shy little six-year-old Natalie, who had practically disappeared beneath her gun vest.

The next suggestion was kids vs. adults, but that was shot down just as quickly, when all three adults started talking about which other adult they wanted to shoot- Sarah wanted to shoot Jareth and her dad; Jareth wanted to shoot Sarah and possibly her dad for good measure; and Mr. Williams wanted to shoot Sarah and possibly the new boy she'd introduced him to, because he'd always think of Sarah as his little girl and the new guy was an intruder that wasn't giving off the 'just friends' vibe.

It was finally decided that they would all line up and get a number, odds versus evens. Jareth laughed when Sarah started punning about how she couldn't possibly be odd, she was such an even-tempered person. Jareth and Toby were both evens, Mr. Williams and Sarah were odd (in more than just the crazy way, in the actual numerical value). The rest of the little kids- Toby had about ten of his friends at the party, not including family and Jareth- fell into the teams.

"Alright, soldiers, line up!" The employee was having entirely too much fun with this, Sarah thought. "Green Team, check your guns and be sure that there are numbers flashing at the top. The number on the top is your score, the number beneath it is how many times you've been hit, the last number is the timer. Red Team! Same thing. I'll lead you all inside to your bases. You must return to the bases to reload every twenty shots, whether they hit the target or not. Understood?" Everyone nodded, and he continued. "You have thirty minutes. Follow me!"

Jareth supposed that it _was_, sort of, cheating to use magic to give himself owl's eyes, but Sarah had only said crystals... And he had only agreed to crystals. Toby and the other little kids were plotting out a strategy, and Jareth heroically volunteered to act as a mercenary. The young ones agreed, and he set off to find a good vantage point.

The dark room was clear as high noon to Jareth, but Sarah kept stumbling in the black lights and fog. Her eyes would adjust _just that bit_, and then one of the two regular lights would flash right into her eyes. She suspected she was jinxed, but couldn't prove anything. She felt her luck turned around, however, when she caught Jareth prowling around- back to her, targets in clear sight... She fired at him and hit on the first shot, when he whirled to see who had the nerve (and accuracy) to hit the target on the back of his vest, Sarah managed to duck away into a really good hiding spot.

At least, it _seemed_ like a really good hiding spot.

Until Toby and his friends got over their shock and started firing.

_Karma is overrated,_ Sarah thought, peeved. She was running blindly through the arena, and almost all of Toby's crew was chasing her down like hounds hunting hares. _In fact, the only one who isn't there is-_

The thought was cut off when a hand shot out and pulled her into a little nook she hadn't noticed. She thought it was her father, helping her out, until a gun was shot, point blank, at the target on her shoulder. Jareth kissed her cheek and whispered, "Justice." Then he was off, leaving a disorientated and discombobulated Sarah in the hidey hole.

In hindsight, Jareth realized that he shouldn't have led Sarah to such a strategic location. She found several other in the area and utilized them all to their maximum capacity. And as his card showed, he'd only been hit nine times- once by Mr. Williams, once by Natalie, and seven times by Sarah. Ah, well, he'd shot her more than that, and he'd even got a couple of shots at Mr. Williams, who was sulking the entire car ride home, since he had been hit the most, despite Sarah's journey into the lion's den.

Jareth was currently attempting to balance a paper plate and a carbonated beverage, and while he was succeeding at that, he really, really wanted to eat the cake and couldn't without putting the soda down and having it lost in the sea of plastic cups.

He'd finally wandered away from the living room and into the kitchen to eat, drink, and be merry with Sarah, who had pinned her own score card up on the refrigerator. She'd been very proud of her performance in the laser tag arena, she'd score in the two-hundred-_thousands_, and had an accuracy rate of 98 percent.

She'd compared the score itself to his, and been disappointed to find she'd lost score-wise by a mere twelve points, but she _had_ lost a lot of points escaping from Toby's den. She'd beaten him in accuracy with a whopping twenty-three percent, mostly because he kept seeing and shooting at Goblins, thinking they were people from the other team.

"So? Was shooting at people with fake guns for fun as stupid as you thought it would be?" Sarah already knew the answer, and he knew it, and the grin she was wearing showed that she knew he knew.

"It was rather fun to shoot you without actually injuring you," Jareth admitted. She made a face and flung an ice cube at him, managing to toss it in just such a way that it slid down the neck of his shirt. She laughed when he yelped and lunged at her, diving behind her father for protection.

"Oh no you don't, girly," Mr. Williams said as he pushed her out into the open. "_You_ threw the ice cube, _you_ suffer the consequences!"

It was Sarah's turn to yelp as Jareth wrestled her into a headlock and slipped the ice into the back of her shirt, using a little magic to _help_ it to linger on the back of her neck and get stuck in that spot on your back that you can never quite reach. It melted there, as she stretched and wiggled, trying to remove it, and she ended up having to go change her shirt. When she started down stairs, however, things did _not_ go at all as planned, for she had only taken two steps down when a hand covered her mouth and an unfamiliar voice whispered, "_Stay quiet and I'll explain after we arrive!_" Then the world dropped out from under her feet, and all Sarah could think was, _Damnit, I didn't get to finish my cake!

* * *

_

Oro: Ah, yes, some semblance of an actual plot begins.  
Jareth: You truly are evil, aren't you?  
Oro: Naturally, naturally.  
Sarah: What's with the sudden stopping!  
Oro: Elementary, my dear Watson! It's late, I'm lazy, and Quill is still mumbling the next chapter to me. Don't worry, for once I know _exactly_ where this story is headed.  
Jareth: Tell me, then!  
Quill: Quiet, you. If you knew the plot, it wouldn't work half as well, and its more amusing to watch you stumble through this like a drunk chicken, anyway.  
Oro: Thank you for your kind words, Quill. In this chapter, I don't own Labyrinth, its characters, Dracula, laser tag, or DDR. The Dracula threat, by the bye, is because a sleeping snail moves faster than Bram Stoker's plot line. Until next time!


	5. The First Week, Part 4

TBO Chapter Five 

Sarah still didn't know who it was who'd grabbed ner, but when the world slid back into place, she found herself in an Underground forest and knew whoever it was had to be of Jareth's ilk. She started struggling once her feet were safely on the ground, managing to elbow her assailant in the stomach. He gasped out, "Knock it off! I mean you no harm! I swear on my name I will not knowingly harm you!" Sarah stopped attacking him, but kept trying to pull away from Mr. Whoever-the-hell-it-was.

"I am Fletcher, Jareth's brother. I have a message for you. Will you listen?"

Sarah gave Fletcher a long, hard stare, trying to decide whether or not to oblige him. She made her decision quickly, respnding with another sharp elbow.

* * *

Jareth felt the shift of magic in the house; he knew the exact moment Sarah was gone, and it did _not_ sit well with him. He excused himself politely and hurried off to Sarah's room, where he set about putting together a tracing spell.

* * *

"Damnit, that _hurts_!" Fletcher gasped. _Who knew a mortal teenager could be this... this... OUCH! Sadistic comes to mind,_ Fletcher noted even as he slid to the forest floor. _I'm pretty sure I won't ever be having kids now..._

"What the hell do you want?" Sarah demanded as she backed away from the fallen Fae ((A/N:: Hey! That rhymes! Yay! ...Sorry, I'm a little hyper...))

"Told you," Fletcher wheezed. "'M just delivering a message. Don't have much time, tho'."

"Why not?" Sarah's eyes narrowed and she glared suspicously at Fletcher.

"Jareth's on his way," he managed. "He's not s'pposed to find out about this." Fletcher staggered to his feet, and waved a hand absently. An envelope appeared and winged its way to Sarah, who caught it tenatively.

"What is it?" Fletcher shook his head. _She's really nothing but questions,_ he mused. Aloud, he responded,

"A letter, adressed from her Majesty, the Unseelie Queen to the Mortal, Sarah the Champion of the Labyrinth. Don't let Jareth see it, after you read it, get rid of it." He saw the confusion on her face and grinned. "It'll all make sense after you read it," Fletcher told her.

"And now, I'm off. Jareth will be here soon, he'll take you home, and remember, not a word of this to him!" Fletcher transformed into a red-tailed hawk and flew off hurriedly.

* * *

It had taken him far longer than he was comfortable with for the spell to find Sarah, and Jareth was not amused by what had occured, even though he didn't know the entire story yet. As soon as the tracer located Sarah (in the Underground, he noticed worriedly) he Shifted into one of his many battle forms and launched himself between the two worlds.

* * *

Sarah inspected the envelope. _What harm could there be in opening a letter from a strange Fae? Surely, if it were enchanted, I could tell... _And she really could. Ever since her trip through the Labyrinth, Sarah could sense magic in creatures and spells. Enchantments, depending on what they did, either felt protective or mildly offensive. The letter felt, if anything, to be a soothing weight, as if whoever had written it was calm and kind. _So it must be relatively safe..._ The cry of a raptor cut her off, and then-

-**SARAH!**-

She had to have jumped three feet when Jareth's roar echoed in her head, and she hastily shoved the letter in the pocket of her jeans. "Jareth?" Her call was confused and reluctant; if she hadn't heard him so clearly she'd have thought herself mad.

Then she caught sight of the beast flying towards her and hastily stepped back several paces. The creature was huge, as tall as a Clydesdale at the shoulder, and even taller than one if you measured the crested bird's head. Ash-grey feathers melted seamlessly into pale gold fur just past the wing joint, the front legs had an eagle's clawed feet but the hind legs were lion's paws. Wings stilled, stretched to catch air as the griffin glided down to meet her, the wingspan at least fifteen feet, if not more. Sarah saw the tail, a lion's tail with the same grey as the feathers coloring the tuft of fur, lash in irritation as the griffin landed. As she stared at its face, she realised that the eyes watching her from above the wickedly curved beak were two different colors of blue, one darker, one lighter, both clear and majestic and magical.

"Jareth?" His name was a gasp this time, and she could only gape when the griffin bowed in affirmative, folding its- _his_- wings across its-_his_- back and it- _he, damnit, why can I accept him as an owl and not a griffin? Well, gee, Sarah, maybe it's because owls are a lot smaller..._- straightened again to tower over her.

-**What the bloody hell happened to you?**- Jareth's words were clear in her head, but aloud it sounded like the griffin- _Jareth, it's Jareth, c'mon, I know I can wrap my brain around this if I really try_- growled and snapped his- _yes! I'm finally getting somewhere!_- beak together.

"I sure as shit wish I knew," Sarah told him, and was proud that she'd managed a normal response. "I'll let you know if I figure it out. All I know is someone grabbed me, and then we were here, and..." Sarah trailed off, uncertain of whether she should tell Jareth about Fletcher. He seemed trustworthy, but how could she know? _Well, I could always tell him later if this dude turns out to be evil,_ Sarah decided. She took a deep breath and continued, "... and it's all very confusing. You seem upset. Are you alright?"

-**I am fine. I happen to be immortal. You, on the other hand, are mortal and much too fragile for my liking. I do have my enemies, Sarah. I should have expected them to come after you**.- Jareth sounded remorseful, and Sarah shook her head.

"Why would they go after me? It doesn't make any sense, Jareth."

-**It makes perfect sense. Those who befriend a king are always in danger and you, little mortal, are a friend of mine, something that is well known**.-

"Friends, huh? I suppose you mean the whole 'me-not-killing-you-when-you're-annoying' and the whole 'you-not-taking-revenge-on-me-for-beating-the-Labyrinth' thing, hmm?"

-**If that is how you'd like to put it.**- The griffin was making a musical purring sound, and Sarah realised Jareth was laughing. She made a face at him before pointedly looking away, and was immediately enthralled by the settng. Especially that plant over there...

"Jareth? That shrubbery just turned into a larch," Sarah told him. "Is it supposed to do that?" The griffin regarded the shrubbery-turned-larch for a moment.

-**Yes, of course. It is a Possibili Tree, it changes every two hours or so, depending on the environment around it.**-

"A Possibili Tree? Wha-? No, wait, I have a better question. _Where_ are we?"

-**Wolfsmoon Wood. Just to the south of my kingdom. We are actually intruding upon the Woodland King's territory, but he's a cousin of mine and won't mind. However, it would be best to get you back home. Come here**.-

Sarah, thankfully, obeyed him with only the slightest pause. When she stood next to him, she craned her head up to look at him and asked, "How are we getting back?"

-**We fly, of course.**- With that, Jareth crouched as low to the ground as he could, shifting his wings out of the way to accomadate a rider.

"You are out of your cotton-picking mind! There is no way on earth-"

-**It is a good thing we are Underground, then.**- Jareth was laughing again. -**If you choose not to ride, I will carry you in my claws. It will be no problem for me, but I think you would find it a but uncomfortable. Make your decision.**-

"Jareth, I really, _really_ don't like heights..." Sarah muttered rebelliously.

-**Hey, if that Potter kid could do it, then so can you.**-

"_'That Potter kid'_? Are you talking about Harry Potter? How did you-?"

-**One of the children wished away recently had a copy of the first book,**- Jareth admitted. -**I started to read it out loud for the child and the goblins and got hooked. The goblins and I were about halfway through the fifth book when the Bog flooded. Hop on, girlie. I'm not staying like this all day.**-

Sarah clumsily climbed onto Jareth's back. He stood up- _and up and up and up,_ Sarah thought, looking at the far-away ground.

"Are you sure this is safe?" She asked Jareth nervously.

-**Of course. Hold on tight with your legs, like you were riding a horse. And kindly sit behind my wings, it's easier to maneuver that way.**- Sarah quickly moved behind the giant wings to make it easier for Jareth. -**Thank you.**-

"Gasp! Jareth, you _thanked_ me? Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

-**I am, and I rather hope you don't get airsick. If you do, you _will_ be cleaning my feathers. Speaking of which, wrap your arms around my neck... Good. Now hold on tight.**- Jareth set off at a fast lope, gaining speed as he raced around the clearing and then making a running leap, unfurling his wings at the height of the jump and soaring easily upwards. He heard Sarah's exclimations of suprise and then, as they gained altitude, of awe; the noises made him laugh softly. Though he was sure Sarah couldn't hear him over the rush of the wind, she must have felt the vibration the sound cause, since she poked him lightly on the shoulder.

There was a slight tearing in the fabric of existance; it shimmered around the duo before they disappeared.

* * *

Oro: Wow, the first chapter that takes place in the Underground. I like the way it came out! You people simply _must _review and tell me if it was good. Quill: I came up with it, of course it's good.  
Oro: And everyone put a hand together for our characters, who did an excellent job of acting out the script, despite still not knowing what the hell is going to happen!  
Jareth: Aw, thanks. Such a wonderful introduction.  
Sarah: You are so taking me flying again later.  
Jareth: I though you didn't like heights!  
Sarah: So did I, but man, flying griffin-back? Amazing. A wonderful performance, feather-head.  
Quill: She is, of course, talking about Jareth being a feather-head, as I control the story and it would not be a good idea to piss me off.  
Oro: Never stops me.  
Jareth: Wolfish Oro doesn't own Monty Python.  
Sarah: Or Harry Potter.  
Jareth: Right, Oro doesn't own Monty Python or Harry Potter.  
Quill: Or Labyrinth.  
Jareth: Alright, Oro doesn't own Monty Python, Harry Potter, or Labyrinth.  
Oro: Or its characters.  
Jareth: Damnit, we'll have to start all over again!  
Quill: No, we won't. Good night, all. Now go away.  
Oro: Quill! Be nice. (to readers) Please ignore him, he's just cranky.  
Sarah: All the time?  
Oro: Yup. 


	6. The Letter

TBO Ch. 6

* * *

It was the moment of truth. She was _finally_ going to open the letter. She'd tried four times, but each time Sarah started to open the envelope, Jareth managed to get in trouble or come over and see what she was doing.

The first time, he'd been helping her father clean up after Toby's party and had gotten cut on a plate he'd dropped 'accidentally' on a particuarly rude Goblin.

The second, she'd paused in the garage when he glided over to tell her that Karen wanted to talk to her and coincidentally, when were the two of them heading for her dorm? Sarah had panicked at the thought, and by the time Jareth got her to calm down enough to speak with Karen, Sarah had forgotten about the letter.

(At this point, she'd thought these events odd, but not at all improbable.)

The third tiime, Jareth and Merlin were tangled in Merlin's leash and a fence.

(She'd though that might be unlikely, but considering the nature of her guest (and her dog), still not beyond the range of possibility.)

The last time, she'd been in her room and Jareth had barged in, telling her that her father was subtly trying to push Jareth out the door. In response, Jareth came upstairs to tell Sarah 'goodbye' and that he'd fly through the window as an owl in a few minutes, so please keep the window open.

(At that point, she'd become suspicious.)

So here she was, in her bathroom, shower running full blast, getting ready to finally read the letter.

* * *

Jareth was rather nervous about Sarah being off on her own- this attempt to kidnap her had spooked him more than he would ever admit, even to himself.

He'd subsequently come up with the most ridiculous reasons to check on her. He wondered if she realised what he was doing, since she seemed to be getting quite peeved with him.

She was in the shower now, he could hear the water hitting the tiles. He sighed, even this necessity was grating on his nerves.

He knew, as a King, how to think like an enemy, and if Sarah did acquire an enemy because of him, they wouldn't care if she was in the shower or not.

He grumbled again, but remembered how she'd loved flying and absently started making plans to take her Underground again. _She might like to see more of Wolfsmoon Wood,_ he pondered. _It's more likely that she'll want to see the massive library at the City, though..._

Jareth kept a watchful eye on the magic swirling around the house. Despite what most Undergrounders may think, the Aboveground was ripe with its own magic, even more powerful than the magic Underground, partially because it was generally allowed to grow unhindered. It would not take a very complicated spell to set up a monitor, and he considered the many warding spells he knew. Most were rejected immediately- they would keep out anything with harmful intent, and with Sarah's luck- and temper- it would very likely eject her from the ward every time he annoyed her.

But one... _Yes, that would work,_ he thought with a wicked grin.

* * *

Sarah nervously unfolded the letter, and read it quickly. She understood it, intellectually, but the letter didn't make sense the first time around, so she read it again, more slowly. She gasped then, and soon aften she was suppressing laughter. Sarah knew Jareth was listening- he seemed on edge after her 'kidnapping'- and didn't want to give anything away.

* * *

When Sarah opened the door between her room and the bathroom, she found her floor covered in chalk and feathers. Jareth was crouched over a circle drawn neatly on the floor, sketching runes throughout it with careful but elegant strokes. The feathers were his, or so she assumed; the majority of them were lightly colored wing feathers and, from the way they were arranged, were as much a part of the circle's design as the chalked-in runes. Sarah opened her mouth to demand what was going on, but Jareth signaled her silent and she realised that he was murmurring something in a musical language she'd never heard before.

A wind suddenly kicked up, and Sarah gasped, worried that it had messed up whatever it was Jareth was doing, but the tone of his voice was pleased and the murmur grew into a crooning whisper. The circle flared, colored light starting on the most westerly point of the circle and speeding around the circle's circumfrence before starting to trace the runes.The light, a deep blue-silver, reflected off the feathers whirling within the circle.

Jareth's voice rose again, but it was only to the level of normal speech. The light gleamed brighter before it dulled- _no, that's not the right word,_ Sarah thought. It was still bright, but it was spreading throughout her room- _and even past it,_ she amended as it flowed through the walls.

Jareth stood gracefully, and turned to face her.

"I assume you have questions," he prompted.

"You know what they say about assumptions," Sarah retorted automatically. She was still in awe of what she'd seen. "What the hell _was_ that?"

"Magic."

"_Really_. How wonderfully informative your answers are," she drawled. "Okay, wise-ass, what did the magic _do_?"

"It is a ward." Jareth was going to stop there, but he saw the look she gave him, and he couldn't miss the 'please continue' hand gesture. "It will help keep you safe. Not only will it keep the uninvited out, it will let me know if anyone manages to slip through it- or comes anywhere near it, for that matter." He was fascinated by the expression his comment caused Sarah to make. She'd bit her lip, and something that seemed rather akin to amusement flashed in her eyes before she looked away, seeming thoughful.

"Could I learn to do something like that?" The curiosity and excitement in her voice were back, full force. Jareth had to grin in response.

"That particular spell? No. It is Fae magic, and you aren't, as far as I know, Fae. You could learn to use other types of magic- I've heard human mages are especially skilled with elemental magic." That brought up something he hadn't thought of- something that, had he thought it earlier, would have prevented him from telling her about humans being able to use magic.

_'Dear deities. Sarah wielding fireballs...'_

"Can any one do it?" Sarah was even more excited now, and Jareth nearly thought the endless stream of questions would be annoying.

Nearly.

Questions were a lovely change from being hit upside the head.

* * *

It took nearly two hours for Jareth to answer most of Sarah's questions. There were a couple he didn't answer (_To save you from a very long discussion on the theory and metaphysics of magic... You know,_ most_ magic users don't even think to ask about this stuff for a couple of decades, Sarah._) He had explained that anyone, once trained, could control the magic of the environment they were in, to different extents, depending upon the person. Some were born with their own magic (Jareth rather suspected Sarah was, but he didn't want to raise her hopes so he didn't say so), also to varying degrees. Magic wasn't always as flashy as the ward Jareth had set earlier, but that, too, depended on the caster (Sarah told him she was suprised the ward didn't use glitter, then, since all his other spells created mini mountains of the stuff. That had sparked an arguement over whether or not the residue was glitter, which Sarah won. _It's sparkly, it gets everywhere, and it sticks to everything. It's glitter._).

He had finally waved a hand to cast another spell, and Sarah had found herself in a pair of silk pajamas that she knew weren't hers. If the high-quality fabric hadn't been enough to give it away, all she had to do was look at the color- _midnight blue_- the pattern- _she wasn't sure how the weaver had managed it, but there were little clear crystals and crescent moons stitched onto the pants, and Jareth's crest on the left side of the shirt_. The length, too, gave it away. The pants, even with the drawstrings tying them up over her belly-button, pooled around her feet, and the sleeves of the shirt were just as bad.

Sarah had looked up to ask him what had brought _this_ on to find Jareth fast asleep on MegaPoofzilla.She was tired, but couldn't help pulling out the letter to read it, one last time, before she hit the hay, so to speak.

She unfolded it carefully, and re-read it.

_To Miss Sarah Williams,_ the letter started in a ridiculously elegant script.

_As I am sure my messanger informed you, I am Jareth's mother, Chame Yasei, The Unseelie Queen. I would prefer it if you would just adress me as Chame, as I hope we will be working together for the next few weeks._

_I doubt Jareth has told you this, but his eight hundred and fourty seventh birthday is fast approaching. Once he moved off to his own castle and Kingdom, he always claimed to be too busy to celebrate his birthday. It will take serious cunning and cooperation to trick the King of Goblins- masters at mischief themselves- into attending his own party._

_As you are a friend of Jareth's, I felt that it was fair to recruit you for this task. He must trust you a great deal, or he would not have asked to stay at your home while the 'renovations' are going on._

_I also feel it is fair to tell you- the flooding of the Bog was entirely orchestrated. It was Jareth's sister who came up with the idea, and Fletcher and Arrow pulled it off spectacularly. We are cleaning out the Labyrinth, the Goblin Village, and Jareth's castle now; they will be completely remodelled by the time we are through._

_I sincerely hope you decide to help us with our quest, but I'll understand if you choose not to. If that is the case, I implore you not to alert Jareth, not to rouse his suspicions in any way._

_If you decide to aide us, simply call whenever Jareth isn't around and we can start plotting._

_Please respond soon,_

_Her Majesty, Chame Yasei

* * *

_

Oro: I'm sorry, this took forever and it isn't nearly as funny as the other chapters. It is, however, essential to plot developement. I wish I could say the next chapter will be out more quickly, but school and family stuff is slowing me down a lot.  
Quill: Stop! This shameless apologizing is making my ego twitch!  
Jareth: May I take the blindfold off now?  
Sarah: No.  
Jareth: Why?  
Quill: If you were meant to know the plot, you'd be allowed to read the story. As it is, you aren't. Deal.  
Oro: Ignore Quill, please, and review. Remember I don't own Labyrinth! By the by, 'chame' ( pronounced cha- meh) means mischief, and 'yasei' (yah-seh-ee) means wild. More Japanese! Woot!


	7. Mostly Plot and Dialogue

Thy Bog Overfloweth

Ch. 7

* * *

Jareth couldn't believe it. He stared at the paper clutched in his hands, and if the storm outside grew _slightly_ more intense, well, that _wasn't_ him. It was coincidence, to be sure, and not the fury at her idiocy.

Did she not remember being kidnapped yesterday? He knew she had short term memory loss, but it wasn't that bad. Yet, anyway; Sarah assured him that by the time she was thirty, she'd be as forgetful as anything.

Still, though, she hadn't reached that point. Jareth wasn't sure she ever would, if she kept acting like _this_.

_What is the use,_ he seethed, _of putting up wards for her safety if she just leaves her shelter without any rhyme or reason? Does she want to be taken again?_

He'd strangle her and put her out of her misery as soon as he caught up to her. He really would.

The Post-it note (which he'd woken to find stuck on his forehead) fluttered to the ground, forgotten, as the Goblin King opened the window with the wave of a hand and leapt through, transforming into a fair-sized golden eagle. Slidge scurried out from under the bed to pick it up. He couldn't read very well, but the note was concise and Sarah had been teaching him. He read aloud to the empty room,

"_Jareth,_

_I had to go out and run some errands, since we'll be leaving for my dorm room in two days. Stay here, I left food and coffee for you._

_Sarah_"

Slidge scratched his head thoughtfully before disappearing to talk to Hoggle. Hoggle always knew what to do.

* * *

Sarah walked alongside average-looking woman down an average-looking road in an average-looking town. Then she took her nineth step away from the barrier around the house...

And like a switch was thrown, everything average was suddenly so beautiful it almost hurt.

The woman, Chame, still walked beside Sarah. Now, however, she had grown taller; her skin had taken a silver cast to it; Chame's hair was now green-black and threaded with delicate vines and leaves. Chame had a regal bearing to her, a kind cast to her features and a mysterious glint in her eye.

The road was now a path in a grove of trees and flowers, all in bloom and in wonderful technicolor. Sarah gaped as they rounded a corner and reached a dainty waterfall of iridesent light, or so it seemed. When Chame stepped upon it, the "light" turned into a crystal stepping stone. Sarah hesitated, unsure if the odd liquid would extend the same courtesy to a human. When she finally did take a small step, the crystal bloomed beneath her foot with an inviting warmth, and Sarah smiled.

The town was now Chame's gardens, a gift, Sarah was told, from the Dryads as a coronation present. Chame kept up with the garden herself, preferring to work the land with her own two hands than with magic or hired workers. The fertile earth responded readily to its caretaker's touch, and the garden flourished. The rest of Chame's holdings were in similar shape, but as Chame had put it, "This place is my home, and I care for it most, even if it isn't fair to play favorites."

Chame pulled the curtainous branched aside and waved Sarah to a table resting by the trunk of a weeping birch. "So," the Fae woman began, "how long have you known my son and what information do you have that we can use against him?"

Only mildly stunned by Chame's directness, Sarah thought, _I do believe I'll like her...

* * *

_Jareth was Not Pleased, At All. He'd flown all over town- the bookstore, the library, the grocery, the park, the path she used when walking Merlin, a little whimsical trinket shop that she liked to browse, her dorm at the college (which was actually two towns away, but Jareth was rather agitated by this point and had flown out there on the off chance that might have been where Sarah had disappeared to) and the _damn_ girl was still MIA. The spell he'd wrapped around her when she'd been questioning him the night before hadn't been set off, so Sarah wasn't in danger... Yet. There really was no telling what Jareth would do to her should she pass beneath him now. Maybe he'd strangle her. Perhaps he'd lock her away in a place outside of time, where she wouldn't- i.e., _couldn't_- escape. It was possible that he'd strand her ass in an oubliette, despite them all being flooded with Bog water (if you could even call that water). 

Jareth banked sharply to the left, hovering a moment before landing upon a branch outside Sarah's house. There really wasn't much he could do, for now. But he had plenty of time to think about exactly how he'd rip her a new one once Sarah returned.

* * *

Hoggle was Not Pleased, At All. That rat was staying with Sarah? _Why?_ The royal Fae were truly only six very large families that mingled and mixed and became to jumbled they were hard to tell apart. The Goblin King could have stayed with any one of his cousins or aunts or uncles or parents or even his grand-parents. It would have been better than staying with Sarah, simply because Sarah didn't live in a castle and Sarah didn't have servants.

Hoggle paused in his furious pacing to stand in front of his mirror. "Sarah! I need ta speak to you!" Hoggle demanded. When the mirror remained blank, Hoggle repeated himself, to the same effect. Slidge quietly snuck away to go visit Sarah as the dwarf started yelling, half-angry, half-panicked, at the mirror.

As such, Slidge missed the scene made by Hoggle and Jareth finding each other at opposite ends of Sarah's mirror. Hoggle fell backwards, startled, while Jareth started questioning Hoggle about Sarah's whereabouts.

Neither of the two men heard the women and Goblin laughing at the two as the three watched through a scrying pond.

* * *

Slidge, when he appeared on Sarah's shoulder, had been welcomed into the little group. The Goblin had slid down to sit on Sarah's lap, and Chame had levitated the chairs into the sunlight by a pond. Most of the plans had been made and would soon be underway, and Sarah had asked hundreds of questions. The most important of these questions wasn't asked until the two women had settled after laughing at Hoggle and Jareth. The question was simple, in comparision to the others.

"When_ is_ Jareth's birthday?" Sarah asked suddenly. Chame wiped a tear of mirth from her eye before answering.

"August twenty-fourth, Sarah. Do you want to know his zodiac sign while we're at it?" Chame teased lightly. Sarah grinned and shrugged.

"Why not?"

"A very good answer for any question. Eh, my son is a Leo... and it's gotten him into trouble plenty of times! Oh, but isn't you birthday coming up, Sarah? How old will you be and when? Maybe I'll plan a party for you, too!"

"I'll be twenty-one," Sarah told her new friend with a grin, "and I'm not telling you when until you promise _not _to throw a party for me. I never did like being at big gatherings, and you'd probably go as over the top with an impromptu party as with a carefully planned one."

Chame pretended to look shocked. "I would never! But... Yes, fine, I surrender. I won't throw a party for you." If there was a little gleam in Chame's eye, a certain lilt to her voice, Sarah didn't notice it- but Slidge did. Slidge chuckled a bit before climbing off Sarah's lap to go romp around.

"April seventeenth," Sarah admitted. Chame shot her a startled look.

"That's less than two weeks away! Does anyone else know?"

"My family and Hoggle."

"You know what I mean, Sarah."

"No, he doesn't know. And I'm not going to tell him, either."

"Why not?"

"Why would I?"

"Well, what happens when you celebrate your birthday and he doesn't know?"

"I'll drag him along. I just don't want to make this a big deal... Hey, look, Hoggle's giving Jareth the third degree. Turn up the volume a bit, please."

* * *

"What are ya plannin' ta do ta Sarah?" Hoggle started angrily.

"None of your business, Hogwash-"

"Hoggle!"

"-Whatever. Why were you calling Sarah?"

"B'cause I found out_ yer_ stayin' with her!"

"And this concerns you because...?"

_Because yer a rat!_ Hoggle thought venomously, but he said nothing aloud.

"Why were you askin' where Sarah is?" Jareth cursed at Hoggle's question.

"She ran off..."

"_You LOST her?_" Hoggle roared.

"I didn't lose her, she wandered off," Jareth snapped.

"So yer tellin' me you wouldn' leave her alone and now she ran off? Smart girl!"

"She said she was out doing _errands_," Jareth managed through gritted teeth. "Haggle, this is serious."

"Hoggle! An' it means ya should know better than ta bother her now."

"She was kidnapped yesterday, Hoglet. I _can't_ leave her bloody well alone!"

"Hoggle, and what do ya mean, kidnapped? Sarah was _kidnapped_? By _who_?"

"I don't know!"

* * *

"Should I go home and break up the fight?" Sarah asked, smirking at the two men.

"Not yet, dear. It is amusing to watch them flounder."

"Point taken."

* * *

"Why do ya care, anyway?" Hoggle asked suspiciously.

"Because- because... because I do! What's that have to do with anything?" Jareth sputtered. _What _is_ it about Sarah and her... her... _minions_ that they goad me out of being regal?_ Jareth lamented.

"What are ya plannin' with her, then?"

"I'm _not_ telling you, you miserable little scab," Jareth snarled.

At once, Hoggle was no longer the cowering subject before his king. He was a friend looking out for his friend, and he was standing up against some unpredictable force that the two had encountered before. Hoggle may have been a coward, but he was a loyal coward, and knew when to take a stand.

"If ya can't tell me, ya won't be gettin' very far in yer plans," Hoggle said stiffly. "I'll help Sarah ta figure it out, an' then ya won't be able to do anythin'."

"Right. What are you going to do, tell my mother? Lay off, Hogscuble."

"I won'. I won' let ya harm Sarah."

"I don't intend to!"

Hoggle smiled like a parent who'd tricked a naughty child into confessing. "Well, then, tha's a 'hole new can o' worms, now ain' it?"

Jareth, realizing he'd been tricked, said nothing.

* * *

"Now it's time to send you home."

Sarah thought for a minute. "Could you please drop me off at the end of my street? It'll be more convincing."

"Not a problem. Slidge, it's time to go! Come, let us take the scenic route."

The scenic route, as it turned out, was to walk back to the waterfall and walk downstream. The crystal stepping stones carried the women (and Slidge, who perched on Sarah's shoulder) to a living cavern. It was a cave made of roots and leaves with shade plants growing and blooming in a fantastic array of deep shades, not the light and airy colors outside but dignified and bold shades of red and green and indigo. Sarah reached out to touch one of the buds before thinking of the fairies. She drew her hand back regretfully, half-wishing she could see if those petals were as soft as they looked.

Chame noticed, and said softly, "Maybe you could raise some seedlings after this thing is over. Jareth would be suspicious if..."

"If I came home with Underground plants. Yes, I suppose that's true. They are beautiful, though. Are they hard to grow?"

"It depends on the plant. Some of them won't bloom Above, some of them adapt well, some of them grow better Above but are native to the Underground."

"Really? Like what?"

"Bamboo, for one. It grows explosively Above, but it orginated here. Some dragon took a few shoots Above to make their new den more like home, and it just... spread. Morning glories are Underground plants, too, and so is asparagus."

"You know, I kind of always figured broccoli was Underground, but I never thought about asparagus."

"Most people don't. Here we are, the corner of Main and Nyxin. Fare well, Sarah. You know the plan."

"Until next time, Chame." Sarah's response was as formal as Chame's, but the women smiled at each other as old friends do, and parted easily.

Sarah had some problems with Jareth's temper, and Hoggle didn't help at all- in fact, Hoggle seemed to be baiting Jareth, which baffled Sarah. Obviously something had happened between the time Chame shut down the scrying spell and the time Sarah got home. Or maybe it was just Act Weird Day. Then again, every day was Act Weird Day for Sarah.

* * *

Oro: I considered putting in more of the plotting, but I figured, nah, they'll figure it out as the plot progresses. And I'm sorry about how it jumps around, but they really are connected in a way and you need to see both sides of the actions- Sarah's and Jareth's. Keep in mind that Chame and Sarah _are _aware about what Jareth and Hoggle are up to, but Hoggle isn't in on the plan yet and Jareth won't be privy to it for a long time (till August, in fact).  
Jareth: (still not allowed to see story) This really isn't fair.  
Quill: I really do not care. Oro: Today, on Thy Bog Overfloweth, we examine that mysterious phenominon of disclaimers, that feeling you get that you don't own- (looks around, apparently stricken with sudden paranoia)  
Today, on Thy Bog Overfloweth, we examine that mysterious phenominon of disclaimers, that feeling you get that you don't own anythin-  
(looks around, gasps, panicking)  
Today, on Thy Bog Overfloweth, we examine that mysterious phenominon of disclaimers, that feeling you get that you don't own anything but original characters and-  
(stops again, nearly having a heart attack)  
Today, on Thy Bog Overfloweth, we examine that mysterious phenominon of disclaimers, that feeling you get that you don't own anything but original characters and plot-  
(runs off to find local milkman)  
Sarah: Woah. Deja vu.  
Quill: Yeah, she doesn't own that, either.


	8. More Plot xx Gasp! xx

Thy Bog Overfloweth Chapter Eight 

He didn't actually get to the strangling part, though he desperately wished he had. Jareth took nearly four hours to calm down after finally settle down enough that Sarah could convince him to go through her bookshelves so he'd have something to read while she attended her courses at school.

He'd known, of course, that it was her sort of bribery to make him stop yelling, but he took advantage of the invitation to steal her well-worn copy of 'The Hobbit', along with 'Catch-22', 'Vamped', 'Wee Free Men' (Sarah had laughed so hard at the irony, but he didn't know what the book was about, yet), as well as filching one of her less filled drawing pads.

She hadn't noticed it yet, but he'd also swiped her favorite pen and ink set, as well as one of her notebooks and an old diary.

... It was a very good thing Sarah hadn't noticed, especially the dairy, especially since he was reading it aloud to Slidge.

It was only two days into his stay with Sarah at her dorm, and he was going stir crazy. Not a good sign, especially since Sarah said that they'd be staying in the (miniscule) room for a month. That's right, a 'month'. Dear deities, he was going to commit suicide out of sheer boredom. He'd finished 'Vamped' and 'The Hobbit' already, much against Sarah's warnings. But, damnit, he'd been so bored yesterday he could hardly stand it.

Sarah said, earlier, that she'd set up a World of Warcraft character for him to play for the next few weeks. He wasn't entirely sure what a World of Warcraft was, but as far as he could tell, it was a subspecies of a video game...

He heard Sarah approaching and rapidly hid the book in a dimensional loophole, standing to greet her (and steal the food she carried) once Sarah opened the door. She allowed him to take the bags of nourishment-- and he knew he only had it because she let him; Sarah could be positively vicious when it came to her food-- and sat on the edge of the bed, leaving him the (creaky) desk chair.

The room was so small that, eating at opposite ends of the dorm room, Sarah was 'still' able to reach over and grab food off Jareth's plate. Slidge sat on Jareth's shoulder, nibbling on a few pieces of pepperoni that Sarah picked off for him. The little Goblin heard a sound that rang softly-- suspiciously sounding like the new wood flute Jareth had carved not three weeks ago-- and popped away.

Jareth didn't get long to see Sarah; she headed out the door, presumably to her next class, after inhaling her pizza (and a few pinches of cheese off of his). The interlude was just that, merely an interlude in the banal melancholy of the Goblin King's day.

* * *

He _thought_ he was so smart, sneaking her pens, stealing her notebook, taking her diary. In fact, she almost didn't let him get away with the diary, but since it was filled with stories and not actual entries, Sarah said nothing. Let the damn ball-tosser think he'd pulled off his crime; in the long run it didn't affect anything.

Sarah hurried to the cafe to meet Chame. The Fae woman said it was time to get the next phase of the plan in gear, which meant Sarah couldn't be in her room until her last class was over. After all, Jareth needed plenty of time to find the "distraction" his mother was setting up, and then more time to justify why the "distraction" should be allowed a home in Sarah's dorm. The "distraction" would give Sarah plenty of time to maneuver Jareth into place, the nature of the "distraction" and Jareth's tendency to dote upon anything that caught his fancy meant that this was the best "weapon" to be used against the Goblin King. Sarah thought weapon was an apt term, as it was a battle to get Jareth to cooperate without giving away the surprise. As her father would say, "All's fair in love and family... Both of which are like war, but somewhat messier. Ouch! Karen, stop _hitting_ me!"

When she'd heard what Chame had in mind, Sarah had almost refused. After all, it wasn't _fair_ for the "distraction" to seek safe haven in her living quarters. It was packed as it was, with Jareth's Portable Poofzilla shoved between her bed and the desk. The room was barely big enough to be a cubicle; three beings sharing the space to sleep and live in would be very uncomfortable. But Chame had convinced her that Jareth was very resourceful when he put his mind to it, and would (eventually) find a way to keep his early birthday gift (not that he'd know that's what the distraction would turn out to be) and keep all three of them in a cozy environment. Sarah didn't know how this event would occur, but figured that necessity would push Jareth into utilizing his 'genius' if nothing else did.

Chame showed her the "distraction", and Sarah felt the last of her doubts melt away. For now, anyway; Chame assured Sarah that the tiny little bundle wouldn't remain so tiny for long.

Ah, well. Its cuteness could be enjoyed while it lasted. Sarah sighed and made a mental note to pick up food for the "distraction". Chame, after inquiring why Sarah had sighed, enchanted a leaf so Sarah could call upon Chame to get food for Jareth's gift.

The two women watched the "distraction" for another twenty minutes or so before Sarah actually needed to get to class. Chame waved to the retreating mortal as she struggled to keep the "distraction" from following her human friend.

* * *

The Summons came while Jareth was doodling in Sarah's notebook. He set down the sketch before rushing off.

Usually, Jareth considered the Summons of the wished away to be tedious. But cramped in Sarah's dorm room, without any Goblins for company (Slidge hadn't returned after lunch), Jareth's boredom had been joined by a sort of loneliness. He was used to having a couple hundred Goblins at court, and a thousand or so more in the City. Even more were scattered in clans throughout the Labyrinth and some strayed into the desert to live. The few that wandered past the barren desert stayed in the woodlands he controlled; as a rule, the Goblins did not leave the lands of the Goblin King. The outside world was hostile to them, for reasons unbeknownst to the Goblins.

Jareth, really, didn't understand it either. The Goblins were cunning, crafty; mischievous to be sure, but for the most part, they were harmless. It wasn't unless someone threatened the Kingdom that the Goblins became the stuff of shadows and nightmares... So why did people think of them as stupid and dangerous? The stupid part he could understand, but the Goblins generally only acted that way. It was more curiosity than idiocy that made them behave as they did.

He had plenty of time to ponder this, as he stalked off to answer the Summons. The Goblins that normally would rush him were absent, so Jareth took his own sweet time to arrive at the wished away's location.

Somewhat startled by the lack of the wisher, Jareth none-the-less scooped up the little bundle of blankets. A card fell out, and he read over it quickly. Jareth snorted at the carelessness of the wisher, and then pulled back a corner of the soft blanket to reveal the wished away. It wiggled, a little, in the Goblin King's grasp, but for the most part, the wished away seemed content to rest in the warmth of the blanket, sleeping peacefully as Jareth bought it back to Sarah's dorm.

He looked thoughtfully at the wished away. _How the hell do I convince Sarah to let me keep it? Let's see... she has a schedule somewhere on her desk, what time is her last class? Five forty... So she'll be back at around six. I could say it was wished away at four thirty or so, and then she has to let it stay with me for at least thirteen hours. Plenty of time to bully her into letting it stay and to get it settled in. Excellent..._

It yawned and shifted in his arms, and Jareth unwrapped the blanket fully to let it curl up on his lap. Contentedly humming to the wished away, Jareth pulled it close and returned to his doodling.

* * *

Sarah paused outside her door. She knew exactly what she would find when she opened it, and she knew _this_ would be the time when her acting skills were put to the test. She also knew she should stop procrastinating and get it over with.

Jareth lay stretched out upon her bed, the _wished away_-- the "distraction"-- happily gnawing on a pizza crust Jareth must have given it.

"Oh, good, you're back. This little fellow needs a name-"

"What is that and why is it in here, Jareth?"

_Her voice sounds scarily calm_, Jareth noted. _Which means she's probably getting ready to yell at me. Fun._

"_He_'s a wished away, and it's in here because the thirteen hours of the wisher aren't up yet. It's a Goblin law- the wished away stays with the king." Unwritten, true, but _implied_. Goblins wrote down everything _but_ the laws.

"Oh? And how many hours are left?"

"Eleven hours, and-" Jareth paused to glance at the clock on Sarah's desk- "forty eight minutes."

Sarah was half surprised that he was so specific, but she also suspected he'd made it up on the spot, so she kept her act going.

"I don't suppose the wisher is going to run the Labyrinth." Sarah folded her arms and leaned back against the door.

"I don't suppose so either, since the wisher was nowhere to be found by the time I arrived," Jareth said, unfazed. "I did get a note, however, asking me to take good care of the little wished away. And look at him, Sarah; he's so small he hardly counts as another roommate!"

_Goblin Kings should **so** not be able to use puppy-dog eyes,_ Sarah thought as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, both for effect and so she didn't start laughing hysterically at Jareth.

"Does he have a name?" She made sure that she sounded surly, as if she was starting to break down. Acting for the sake of acting was one thing, acting to pull off _the_ best prank and surprise party was much harder.

Jareth brightened almost perceivably. _She's wearing down!_ Aloud, he responded. "Not yet. I was waiting to see if you wanted to help me name him. Personally, I think he looks like a Jareth, and though it would be rather confusing to have two Jareths around, it--"

"There is no way Above or Under that I will let you name him Jareth."

"Hm. Garrett, then?"

"No."

"Jay?"

"_Jareth_..."

"What? No? Then how about... Seth?"

"That's so blindingly obvious that it isn't even funny."

"I don't see you coming up with any bright ideas!"

"Fine, then, oh _Goblin King_, here's one: Aelfric. Or another, Cormac. Or maybe, Alexander. Or perhaps, Tynan. Or possibly, Davin, Actaeon, Erebos, Sandulf, Koli, Ciardha, Aatto, Raoul, Zev, Rasui, Avery, Faolan, Summanus... I have more, if you'd like."

"No, thanks. Why do you know...?"

"I'm a writer! I need names for my characters!"

"Ah. Hm. Hey, wasn't Actaeon torn apart by-"

"Yes."

"We're not naming him that. Ciardha is nice... what does it mean?"

"Does it matter?" At the withering glare he shot at her, Sarah answered, "Dark... It means dark."

"Suits him," Jareth said, glancing down at the long, soft fuzz covering the head of the wished away. "But... maybe Zev... I like that one, it's unique... Which one do you think is best?"

"Personally, I like Faolan and Koli."

"Maybe we should wait and name him based on behavior," Jareth suggested.

"No. Pick a name."

"Fine! What do you think?" Jareth suddenly turned to the wished away. "Faolan or Zev? Blink once for Zev, twice for Faolan."

"Jareth, that's absolutely ridiculous! He's just a baby!" As if to prove Sarah wrong, the wished away turned to Sarah, its hunter-green eyes staring with determination into her emerald eyes... And blinked twice.

"Which did he pick?" Jareth asked. The wished away turned to the Fae and blinked twice at him. Jareth sighed, but relented.

"Fine, fine, side with her... Well, it _is_ your name, after all." The wished away wiggled happily, barked, and licked Jareth's face. "Faolan! Hey!" The pup pounced, and Sarah giggled as she watched the Goblin King wrestle with the tiny puppy.

"I suppose..." Sarah trailed off with a sigh. _Super acting time_, she thought to herself. _Oh joy_. Both Jareth and Faolan perked up, watching her from where they were sprawled across the bed. "I suppose... since we named him and all... that we really can't toss him out." A long, tense silence formed, while both males-- unaware of the plotting that had gone into this moment-- held their breath and waited for the other shoe to drop.

"But the dorm expressly forbids the ownership of pets, so Jareth, it's going to be your responsibility keeping him happy, healthy, and _hidden_. Understood?" Both dog and Fae nodded vigorously, and Sarah hid her grin by turning to reopen the door. She looked at them before heading out, calling to them, "I'll go out and get food for the three of us... And some dog toys, I guess. Don't cause too much trouble while I'm gone."

Once he was sure she was gone, Jareth cheered softly. The pup at his side barked, just as quietly, also in celebration.

"Well, Faolan, once you're settled in, it will be smooth sailing, my friend... At least, it will be until your wings start to form and I have to explain to Sarah that you're a Fae wolf, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. She probably won't care... much..."

* * *

"Well?" Chame strolled beside Sarah as the mortal woman walked through a nearby pet store.

"Jareth absolutely loves Faolan. And neither of them suspects a thing."

"I take it Faolan is the pup? An interesting name... Did Jareth come up with it?"

"No, I did. Jareth tried to name it after himself, so I listed a few names and we picked our favorites... Then we let Faolan choose."

"Faolan was the name you picked out?"

"Yes. Jareth wanted to name him Zev."

"He would, wouldn't he... I'll let you get back to your shopping. And here-- this ought to pay for Faolan's food."

"Thank you, Chame. I'll send a message to you through Slide tomorrow, alright? Good, and good bye."

The women parted, basking in the victory of the second battle in the war... And setting up the third. Sarah couldn't keep the devious grin from growing, but she managed to stay away from the dorm long enough to compose herself before entering with the food...

And get tackled by Faolan just after opening the door, and receiving a very similar treatment from Jareth, as both tried to steal the food she carried.

* * *

Oro: Yes, Faolan has a purpose. He is a major plot device (though I'm not sure, yet, if he'll be a major character). Anyway, in this chapter, I don't own:

Sarah: Labyrinth...

Jareth: Its characters...

Quill: The Hobbit...

Oro: Catch 22...

Sarah: Vamped...

Jareth: or Wee Free Men.

Quill: Review. I made sure to force Oro to type this while she was sick to see if illness affects her writing style.

Oro: Thanks so much, Quill. You evil bastard.

Quill: Ah, so you _don't_ want the next chapter...

Oro: (glares) Really, though, please review, and good night, all!


	9. Annie and Arguing

Thy Bog Overfloweth

Chapter Nine

* * *

As it turned out, Faolan kept Jareth pretty damn busy, and between escaping the dorm to explore the city and running around Underground, the two were kept out of Sarah's hair enough for her to work on her classes... and go plotting with Chame.

But it was mostly school work, honest.

In fact, the only rules Sarah imposed upon the two Fae-- because yes, she knew all about Faolan, Jareth hadn't figured that out yet, but she knew-- was that they had to use a glamour to look human (in Faolan's case) and canine (in Jareth's case)... hey wait! Reverse that. Normal-dog-look for Faolan, normal-guy-look for Jareth. Right.

The second rule was that they were never, ever, _ever_ allowed to go to see Star Wars anymore. After three days of Star Wars quotes and puns on Jareth's part, and Wookie imitations from Faolan, they were Restricted with a capitol R.

... Sarah had made the mistake of telling them they could watch movies or listen to music on her computer, so long as they kept the volume low. Of course, at the time, she hadn't known that Jareth had _borrowed_ the complete Monty Python's Flying Circus box set from one of her dorm mates, Rachel, who lived in the room next to Sarah's.

Said dorm mate had been stapling posters, advertizing _LOST: Monty Python DVDs. Please return to Room 69. It really isn't funny, people. Those were a gift!_ The poster even had a picture of Lemming of the BDA on it. Sarah had stopped to talk to her neighbor about it, actually. The conversation went something along the lines of:

Sarah: Someone took your DVDs?

Rachel: Yeah. Can you believe it? I need those DVDs for a paper-- I'm writing an essay on the way Monty Python's satire can illuminate the cultural differences between England and America. Of all the times for them to disappear... I'd lend them out if someone asked me, but I need at least four specific disks!

Sarah: ...Wow. That sounds like an... interesting topic. Which class is that for?

Rachel: Oh, it's for the persuasive essay in Creative Writing. Didn't you say your topic was the biases in faerie tales?

Sarah: You actually remember that?

Rachel: I remember everything I don't need to. Whatever would be convenient for me to remember, I forget. It is quite possible that I just moved these around my bookshelf and can't remember it...

Sarah: Well, at least you can always rent them if they don't show up.

Rachel: You know, I didn't think of that. Thanks, Sarah!

Sarah watched her neighbor walk down the hall, presumably to the video store. She also saw _something_, the faded color of ash, flutter around Rachel's shoulder before perching upon it.

Slightly spooked, Sarah had burst into her room... only to find Jareth trying to say "Johann Gambolputty de von Ausfern-schpleden-schlitter-crasscrenbon-fred-digger-dingle-dangle-dongle-dungle-burstein-von-knacker-thrasher-apple-banger-horowitz-ticolensic-grander-knotty-spelltinkle-grandlich-grumblemeyer-spelterwasser-kurstlich-himbleeisn-bahnwagen-gutenabend-bitte-ein-nurnburger-bratwustle-gerspurten-mitz-weimache-luber-hundsfut-gumberaber-shonedanker-kalbsfleisch-mittler-aucher von Hautkopft of Ulm" in two breaths. Note the _trying_. He kept losing his second wind just after "luber" and he was turning more than slightly red.

It didn't take Sarah long to figure out how Jareth must have come across such a name (but come to think of it, she was very, very glad he hadn't known of it when they'd named Faolan five days ago), and then Sarah started turning more than slightly red herself... but from anger, not lack of breath.

"It's _you_!"

"Oh, deities, Sarah, not this again. Yes, I am the Goblin King, can we get on with our lives now?"

"No, not that, you idiot! You're the one who stole Rachel's Monty Python DVDs!"

Jareth pretended to gasp in amazement. "Your chief weapon must be your _keen observations_! ...And your _logical thought process_! Your TWO chief weapons must be your keen observations, logical thought process, and ability to _point out the obvious_! Wait... Your THREE chief weapons must be your keen observations, logical thought process, ability to point out the obvious, and your _sterling moral codes_! ... AMOUNG your chief weapons are--"

"Shut your festering gob, you heap of owl droppings!"

"So you _are_ a Monty Python fan!" Jareth grinned widely, and Faolan's tail thumped against the bed, making it shake and throwing Jareth off balance.

"That's beside the point. _You_ went sneaking around _other people's dorm rooms_ and _stole_ stuff! What _else_ did you take?"

"Well, we didn't take anything else, but Slidge took four assorted socks for his cousin."

"Go return the damn DVDs, ass. And _you_--" Sarah turned to Faolan. "We _just_ had this conversation about stealing stuff, didn't we?"

Faolan's ears drooped, and his tail stilled as he nodded.

"Then why didn't you bring him to heel, hmm?" Jareth started sputtering from where he was packing up the set of DVDs.

"Do I look like a leashed dog? I am not something to be 'brought to heel,'" Jareth snapped. Faolan rumbled, hiding his face behind his paws.

"Am I talking to you? No. I am talking to Faolan. Go put those DVDs back where you found them, _now_."

Jareth and Faolan looked at each other and wondered just when Sarah learned to look scary.

"Sarah, when is the fourth semester over?"

Startled, she replied, "May sixteenth. But what's that have to do with anything? You're just trying to change the subject!"

"No, no, of course I'm not--" _damn right I am_ "-- I was just thinking you might be lashing out because you're under pressure. And I know it's stressful, but Sarah, yelling at me (and Faolan) isn't going to help anything. You need a vacation."

"I just got back from Spring Break, dummy. Why did you think I was home?"

"... That doesn't change anything. You are in a very stressful environment, but Sarah, there are ways of working around that without yelling or having your head explode."

"I think I know a couple," Sarah said, _absent-mindedly_ tossing a paperweight from hand to hand.

"And none of them include violence!" Jareth yelped.

"Damn, there goes my lot. Back to the point: return the DVDs. Move it, kingie."

Jareth grumbled, but disappeared with the box of DVDs. Sarah looked at Faolan. "So why didn't you stop his Royal Idiocy?"

Faolan shrugged.

* * *

Sarah woke late that night to find herself Underground. Looking about, she wondered sleepily, _where the hell did my dorm go? Maybe it ran off... Dorms randomly run away? Ehh..._

Then she spotted Faolan and Jareth playing fetch with a laughing Goblin, and realized they must have come here for a midnight run or something. The Goblin noticed her looking at the Undergrounders and waved merrily whilst flying through the air.

"Sarah-lady! You play, too?" The Goblin yelled this as it flew further away. Sarah shook her head to clear some of the fuzziness from it, then dragged herself up to go join the boys. And the Goblin.

"Now four to play!" The Goblin, hanging comfortably from Faolan's mouth, continued, "We play Annie!"

"Who's Annie?"

"Not _who_, Sarah, Annie is a _what_. A long time ago, one of the wished away taught the Goblins how to play Blind Man's Bluff. They've adapted the game a little, and they call it Annie after the wished away."

"So is Annie any fun?" Sarah asked the Goblin.

"Annie pretty neat," the Goblin told her, shaking his head vigorously. "No rules 'cept nobody has eyes open!"

"Since you thought of it, you get to be the Annie, Gobling," Jareth told the little fellow. The Goblin-- Gobling?-- yipped with joy and raced off to start counting.

"Fi'teen, fou'teen, thi'teen..."

"I thought they were Goblins..?" Sarah queried.

"Twelve, 'leven, ten..."

"Young Goblins are called Goblings. It was either that or Goblets. They choose Gobling. Anyway, once our dear "Annie" finishes counting, you have to close your eyes. Then you run around and hope to hell you don't trip over the Annie. It's interesting to play, but much more fun to watch."

"Eit... Eit... What's affer eit?"

"Oh? And how would you know, if you're playing?"

"Ooh! Right! Se'en, si'..."

"Who says I always play? Stop by on a Tuesday after the renovations are done. The Goblins have a weekly Annie tournament."

"Two, one! Ziik gonna get you all!" Sarah promptly closed her eyes and stepped sideways slowly, making sure she didn't make any noise. Faolan, too, closed his eyes, but with the wolf's hearing and sense of smell, the loss of sight didn't matter much.

Jareth stayed right where he was, one eye open, the cheater.

The little Gobling, Ziik, found Faolan first, mostly because Faolan decided to follow Ziik. Sarah was found next, if only because Jareth was cheating and because she'd gotten stuck in what seemed to be a giant spider's web. Jareth didn't get caught at all, because the Gobling, the girl, and the Fae wolf got tangled in the web and couldn't reach him.

"You're cheating, Ziik. That means the game is over. Sarah, how the hell did you get stuck upside-down?"

"Hell if I know. Hey, wait... This is a spider web! Where are the spiders? Are they going to eat us?"

"The spiders aren't going to eat you, since there are no spiders. That's a dream web. You wove it while you were sleeping."

"I did all of this?" Sarah sounded amazed.

"And in pretty color, too!" Ziik laughed as he scampered down the web. It was, indeed, a beautiful green-silver.

It was also quite determined not to let Sarah go. It took Jareth and Faolan nearly twenty minutes to detangle her, while about thirty or so Goblins stopped by to watch. Jareth remarked loudly that Sarah had always been reluctant to let go of her dreams, but it now seemed they were reluctant to let go of _her_.

Sarah's response had been to curse and thrash, trying to free herself. The dream-web wove itself tighter around her.

"Jareth? What will this do if it eats me?"

"I already told you, nothing is going to eat you! All the web will do is weave around you, probably forming a cloak of some sort and acting as a sort of... armor, I guess, is the closest word to it. Anyway, it would just pull around you and become barely visible, like mist. The only problem we have with this web is that you're in it upside-down and from that height, it would be rather dangerous."

Having extracted Sarah from the web, Jareth declared the outing to be over and teleported himself, Faolan, and Sarah to the hall outside the dorm room. Sarah started to ask why he hadn't gone directly into the room when something grey and fluttery flickered at the edge of her vision. Startled, she jumped back-- into Jareth, who'd been sketching a rune on the door. With the rune skewed, two warning pulses of deep purple light flashed before a wave of equally night-shaded purple flame rolled over Jareth and Faolan. It would have hit Sarah, too, if she hadn't tripped as she fell back. As it was, the two Fae were left smoking, singed, and (in the case of Jareth's hair), still aflame.

"Should I be more worried about the fire or the mist?" Sarah was half-amused, half-wary. Jareth summoned a crystal to rid himself, Faolan, and the hallway of scorch marks.

"The fire probably wouldn't harm you, and I don't know what mist you're talking about."

"The mist seeping through the door there!"

"I don't see any mist... Sarah, to whom does that dorm room belong?"

"It's Rachel's. Why?"

"Is she, perchance, a writer, or an artist?"

"Yes..."

"Then you don't need to worry about the mist. It's the... magical manifestation of creativity; it shrouds the artist in question to keep their muse from faltering and helps the artist to focus upon their work and not the real world. What I am concerned about is why you can see it... Most Undergrounders can't unless they're bards or Muses, from what I've heard. I think it may be time to teach you some simple magicks."

"... You can start teaching tomorrow. I'm going back to sleep now."

* * *

Oro: (runs in from way far back in the background): ... ... It's-  
Quill: Thy Bog Overfloweth's chapterly disclaimer.  
Sarah: She doesn't own the Underground.  
Jareth: Or the Labyrinth.  
Quill: That's in the Underground, stupid.  
Oro: ANYWAY, I also don't own the characters from the movie, nor any Monty Python references, nor the three David Bowie references hidden in this chapter. The lines are straight from the lyrics, so I doubt I was very clever at hiding them... Miss Selah, thank you kindly for the music recommendations! I did like the songs.  
Quill: Wrap it up now, lady.  
Oro: Hush, you. (turns to readers) Happy Sunday! Enjoy reading this while my teachers kill me with over-the-weekend-homework!


	10. Double Digits! And Insanity! Woohoo!

TBO

Chapter Ten

* * *

The lessons went... _Well, there has to be a word for it,_ Jareth mused. _Some sort of cross between miserable and terrifying... on my part, anyway; **she** was absolutely delighted. Even if she did set the curtains on fire. Blast that girl, Fae aren't supposed to get heart attacks..._

Mid April now and raining, Sarah was away at work and Jareth took Faolan Underground for a walk. The Goblins that always showed up were somewhat busy, but then again, it was always a busy day for Goblins when it was rainy Above. That was when their best mischief was carried out.

Faolan trotted at his side as Jareth loped easily over roots and underbrush. The Fae wolf stopped, suddenly, stock still but not hackled. Jareth, noting the lack of furred companion, looped back around to see what was the matter.

The huge wolf-- because the beast had grown at a magic pace and now stood as high as Jareth's waist-- had gone stone still as a tiny little wood-drake perched on its nose. The scene was one Jareth _knew_ he'd have to sketch later, for Sarah, because moments like these reminded both mortal and Fae man that the pup, despite his size, was still the cute little pup that had curled up in their laps not two weeks ago.

Things like this, the little things that Jareth wouldn't even have noticed, had he still been running his country from the Castle, made Jareth glad the Bog had flooded.

Well... Sort of.

Kind of.

More glad to have a vacation, really, but there was nothing short of the Bog flooding that would have procured a vacation for the Fae king, so he figured he'd take what he could get.

Sarah had actually given him a disposable camera for moments like this, but such things didn't work very well Underground, so he made do with photographic memory and the colored pencils he'd stolen from Sarah. He (usually) showed her the drawings, which she hung up on the wall or tacked up on the door. Most of the sketches were of Faolan, or a Goblin, or Faolan with a Goblin. He had a few that he'd never show Sarah, because he knew how much she _hated_ having her picture taken and she'd probably see being drawn as even worse. So he kept those to himself, showing Sarah the portraits of the Goblins and the Fireys and the feylings who came to visit their King while she was at her classes.

But this picture... For some reason, the little wood-drake caught his attention. With a whistle, the Goblin King summoned the drake to him. The miniscule drake perched upon his hand, its leonine head and mane gleaming burnished-copper against his black gloves as the forest-green serpentine body wrapped itself loosely around his wrist. The wood-drake trilled questioningly at him, and Jareth found himself questioning his actions, too. For some strange reason, the drake reminded him of... Sarah? Maybe it was the eyes, emerald and clear against the darker milieu of the drake's leathery hide.

It trilled again at him, and when Jareth made no indications of doing anything, the tiny dragon unwrapped itself to "swim" through the air to its nest in a nearby willow, disappearing into its nest of ash twigs. The low whistle it cried gave Jareth the vaguest sense of disappointment.

Shaking the melancholy thoughts from his head, Jareth called to Faolan so the two could return to the dorm.

* * *

It was completely by coincidence that Jareth had returned in time to catch the phone call.

Merely chance that it happened to be Toby calling.

Entirely fate that Toby asked what Jareth was getting Sarah for her birthday.

_Not at all planned, of course, _Chame thought as she listened to her son rant and watched him pace. _Sarah said I couldn't tell him... She said nothing about someone else informing him._

"Two days, Mother! She doesn't even tell me, and now I have _two days_ before she turns _twenty-one_ to find her a present! Why the hell wouldn't she tell me? Does she not trust me with something like this? How the bleeding hell did she think I'd feel when I found out I'd missed her birthday?! And--"

"Jareth, calm down. Who is "she" and why are you so worried?" Chame knew damn well who he was talking about, but it wouldn't _do_ for her _darling_ son to know that, so Chame kept her expression blandly interested and her tone only vaguely curious.

"Sarah! Damn her mortal hide, that girl _always_ has me jumping through hoops, this time--"

"Have you no idea what to get her?" Chame couldn't keep the amusement from her voice. Off in the distance, one of her flowers recorded the conversation. Later, after Jareth had given Sarah her gift, Chame would be sure to show it to the girl. A flustered Goblin King? Sarah would be in stitches!

"I know a few things, of course, but twenty one is the coming of age Above, and I want to... I don't know. Get her something to reflect that it's a special time, I guess."

"Well? What sort of thing does she like?" Chame, ever the actor, let a hint of exasperation shine through in her voice. Faolan rumbled from his resting space-- a rather sunny little patch of moss in Chame's court, where he was very comfortably sprawled out. "What are you laughing at, pup?" The Unseelie Queen murmured.

"She likes... Books, and company, she likes shiny things--" Jareth snorted. "In fact, her first animal form will probably be a magpie. Anyway, she likes to look at jewelry, but rarely wears nice ornaments. She likes dangly earrings, but Toby got her a pair of earbobs already, so--" Jareth was cut off, once again, by his mother.

"Who is Toby?" Now, this was part of the acting _particularly_ important to pull off. When the two women were listening and laughing at this later, Sarah would hear this part-- very important, since Sarah's family hadn't really come up during their conversations, only being discussed occasionally, and never in detail.

"Sarah's younger brother. She likes fuzzy socks, too... And she likes writing, should I get her a nice quill pen? Maybe a Phoenix down quill, with unlimited ink..." Jareth's brow wrinkled as he thought, and Faolan yawned.

"Slow down. What does she like best of the things you've mentioned: books, writing, company, or... _shiny_ things," Chame snickered to herself.

"Probably books and company tie for first, then writing, then shiny objects." Jareth paused. "I don't know what books she wants, though, and how the hell could I give her _company_?"

_It really is ironic,_ Chame thought, _that he's giving her pretty much what I gave him._ The Fae Queen said nothing aloud, merely resting her chin on her be-gloved knuckles and giving Faolan a pointed look.

"A pet? It would have to be something small, to stay with her in her dorm... Something that is fairly self-reliant, too. I wonder if..." Jareth, in his mind's eye, flashed back to the forest-drake. "Mother, do you know when the drakes have their clutches(1)?"

"The local drakes all clutch(2) at different times. The fire-drakes' clutch is always at Midsummer, so there's another three months, if you want to wait. The ice-drakes, river-drakes and sea-drakes clutched two weeks ago, but all of those three grow too large to give her, since you said she'd living in a... dorm? Yes, a dorm. That leaves the rock-drakes, wood-drakes, and the wind-drakes. The windy ones clutch tomorrow, the rocky bunch clutched a moon ago, and the woodsy group clutched three days ago. Which do you think she would like?"

"Sarah would like all of them," Jareth said absently. "I think she'd find the wind-drakes and the wood-drakes best to her liking." Jareth ceased his pacing suddenly, cape flaring dramatically about him as he nodded decisively. "I'll be by tomorrow to see both clutches. Until then, I have some work to do. Faolan! We take our leave, most esteemed Mother."

As the two Fae disappeared from her court, Chame let a smirk steal across her features before returning to her Queenly mask.

* * *

Sarah blinked when she entered the room. She had absolutely no idea what Jareth was doing, but it looked like he was trying to... dance? To Diary of a Madman, at that. _What the bloody hell does he think he's doing?_, she wondered, mystified at seeing the royal Fae jump around carelessly... well, as carelessly as one could, considering they were in a room smaller than a prison cell. Faolan was, as usual, spread out on the bed and laughing, as usual.

"Jareth, that's too loud! And I need my desk to work, so shove over, bub." The Fae King she addressed pulled a face before turning the music down... infinitesimally. And stepping to the side long enough to plop down on the bed, onto Faolan. The two Undergrounders wrestled until Sarah threw the Biology textbook at them and shut the music off.

"Knock it off. I have an announcement to make," Sarah proclaimed. "Dad and Karen invited me home over the weekend. Since I know you are _mature_ and _responsible_ beings, I am giving you two choices: do you want to come back and stay with me, or do you want to stay here?"

Jareth and Faolan looked at each other, and then back at Sarah. "We'll go with you. It's no _fun_, trying to pester one another, so we'll tag along and pester _you_!"

Sarah cradled her head in her hands. "I should have just forced you to stay here," she groaned.

Jareth smirked at her while Faolan's tail beat against the bed. "What fun would that have been? Anyway, I have a new spell for you..." Sarah, as predicted, perked up immediately.

"What is it?"

"Depending upon which spoken command you use, this rune..." Jareth grabbed a piece of paper from Sarah's desk, ignoring her protests. He sketched the rune, then, in a slightly heavier hand, he traced out a ward to keep the rune from activating. "As I was saying, this rune can either create an umbrella or call down lightening. Honestly, I doubt I should be teaching you this one, but as a _mature_ and _responsible_ mortal, I am giving you two choices: do you want to learn to make umbrellas, or call down lightening?"

"Both. And stop mocking me! Wait, quick question. Who does the lightening hit when it's called down?"

"Whoever you tell it to. Now, pay attention..."

* * *

_So much for paying attention,_ Jareth thought as he summoned his own umbrella. It propped itself open, a severe black umbrella lightened with crystal orbs and dancing Goblins. He watched the room in general as he pondered their current situation. Sarah had, by some miraculous stroke of... _luck_... managed to combine the umbrella rune with the rain rune (say that five times fast), so it was raining umbrellas. Faolan had wedged himself under the bed, and Sarah was using her backpack as a shield as she shouted out the same word with different pronunciations. _Should I tell her it's the rune and not the word?_ Jareth wondered absently. As the umbrellas-- the size of the little ones bartenders put in mixed drinks, but fully functional-- turned sky blue with rubber duckies, he decided to give her three more minutes, before he'd deal with the aftermath.

He would have to keep one of every kind of umbrella, of course. And then he would show them off to his siblings, exclaiming loudly on the _bargain_ he'd gotten on these little pieces of _art_. He'd porbably give some to the Worm family,too. Jareth would never, ever let her live this down. These umbrellas were blackmail material, they truly were.

When the new round of umbrellas had miniature devils and angels waltzing along its circumference, he finally spoke a single word.

"Teiryu."

The umbrellas froze in midair, and Jareth watched bemusedly as Faolan and Sarah peeked out at him.

"What'd I do wrong?" Sarah sounded utterly confused, and Jareth grinned wickedly as he displaced the miniature umbrellas with a wave of his hand. "I said that blasted word over and over and _over_ and nothing happened! Well, they changed color, but that was it. And why weren't they full-sized, like yours is?"

"Remember to raise your hand if you have a question, class. Yes, Miss Williams? Do you have a question?" Jareth trilled this in a sickly sweet voice and watched the tick over Sarah's left eye twitch with annoyance. _Excellent._

"Please, Mister King, I am having a bit of difficulty with this problem. Could you assist me?" One of Jareth's eyebrows rose. So the mortal was taking the challenge, hmm?

"Of course, Miss Williams. Take notes, class, there will be a quiz on this tomorrow." Sarah, acting in character, groaned in dismay. "Miss Williams, you in particular should be paying extra close attention," Jareth chastised.

"Me in particular? What a coincidence-- I'm the only one in class!"

"_Anyway_, you screwed up the rune. See this line, right here? Upper left radical, one of the strokes near the loop-- yes, that's the one. You flipped that line; it's supposed to go diagonally the other direction with a hook. Here, I'll give you a sheet of paper and you can get practicing." Jareth sketched another ward on a new page, this time around the border so Sarah had room to practice.

"Are you serious about having a quiz tomorrow?" The rain fell gently, but a gust of wind slammed it forcefully against the window.

"Certainly, certainly. So, how were your other classes? Is your essay coming along well?" Faolan wiggled out from under the bed and laid his head on Sarah's lap to get his ears rubbed. When she obligingly petted his head, his tail nearly swept Jareth's feet out from under him. Sarah laughed as she watched the Goblin King right himself before moving a half-step to sit on Mega-Poofzilla.

"Ugh. I absolutely dread finals. I honestly do. Biology is really weird right now-- I mean, I understand it, but the teacher keeps looping back to first-semester material and it's really not so bad except that I've forgotten most of it. And the essay... Dear lord, I have the whole damn thing outlined, but I haven't had the time to sit down and write it!"

"Hm. Could you recite it, word-perfect, if I asked you to?"

Sarah glanced up at the Fae King. Her hands stilled, no longer writing or scratching Faolan's ears. "You're up to something. And is this right?" As she went to hold up the paper, Faolan, impatient with her, bumped into her arm, sending the paper flying. Jareth caught it out of the air as it drifted by.

"Yes, that's correct. Faolan, stop being so pushy. You're too big for that now." Faolan's response was a soft whine, but the wolf was far more preoccupied with Sarah's hands, which were framing his face and stroking the smooth fur of his lupine cheeks. "And you, Sarah, you're spoiling him rotten," Jareth accused.

"Yup."

"You need to stop, too. He's staying with me after this whole thing is over, and I don't want to deal with a spoilt wolf."

"Of course you don't. Why on earth did you think I was doing it? Durrh. And what the hell are you up to?"

"I can type. Faster than you, I might add, since I type with two hands at Fae speed as opposed to typing with three fingers at mortal speed."

"Umm. Sure, I guess. Hang on, I'll turn on Word and then you can sit here, alright? And... thanks. In advance."

"Not a problem. Faolan, you do realize you'll have to move to she can get out, don't you?" Faolan huffed but obediently moved aside. When Sarah stood and bowed him into the desk chair, Jareth draped across it like it was his thrown and propped the wireless keyboard in his lap. He cracked his knuckles, and waited for Sarah to begin.

True to his word, the Goblin King was a very fast and efficient typer. At the end, Sarah snickered and looked at the clock. "Eighteen minutes for a twenty-page paper. You should be a secretary, Goblin King. How did you get so good at typing?"

"A long, long time ago, when I decided to have the scrolls in the library replaced with books-- for the most part-- I skipped ahead in time to get a bunch of type-writers. I have four Goblin Scribes, and each of them is just as good with a type-writer (or keyboard) as I. I'll admit that it took me a decade or so to perfect my... what's the new euphuism, _mad skillz_?"

Sarah burst out laughing. "Don't try to modernize yourself," she told him. "Please, for the sake of society, just... don't!"

* * *

Chame watched as Jareth wandered amongst the clutch of wood-drakes. The one he'd seen yesterday hovered over her clutch as Jareth inspected all the rascally little drakes. The wind-drakes had clutched today, but he'd found each of them lacking, somehow. That one was unintelligent by drake standards, that one kept running into things, that one was too shy, and so forth.

The wild wood-drake was watching Faolan cautiously as he sniffed at her clutch; Jareth too seemed more expectant of the wild one than the cultivated drakes who milled around him.

"May I?" The Goblin King asked the drake. She trilled her acceptance after studying him for a long moment.

Eight drakes made up the wild one's clutch, each of them with their own markings and colors. It was like looking at a living bouquet, one that was looking curiously up at you while nibbling on a seed.

Two stood out to the Fae King. One, golden in scale and silver in mane, had wrapped itself peacefully around its siblings. It was ever-so-slightly larger than the others in the clutch; a born guardian. The other was quite clearly the runt of the litter, with its mother's auburn and forest-green coloring. This one was tiny, and it seemed to be defiantly glaring up at him. He reached down to stroke one finger between the green-ice eyes... And yelped as it bit him.

"Well, this one has Sarah's personality, to be sure," Jareth commented through gritted teeth while trying to gently pry the drake's jaws apart.

"Wonderful! And it will need a nesting tree, of course. May I see it? Ah, may I see her, I should have said," Chame crooned to the clutch's runt, and though the runt nipped at the Queen as well, it seemed to be a friendly nip. "Drake's Maple. I should have known. Well, I happen to have a few cut in a bonsai style. Come along, Jareth. Faolan, you may stay here if you behave."

Jareth loped after his mother. "I'll need time to get that one settled in tomorrow-- do you know of anything that can get Sarah out of the house for a while?"

Chame hummed, and nodded slowly. "I do know a few things... But you are not allowed to question myself, Sarah, or Karen afterwards, understood?"

"Why not?" Jareth stopped abruptly as his mother paused to examine a small tree.

"If anything, it will be a girl's night out and a gift from myself to Sarah. You don't get to question it because it will be my gift to Sarah. Understand?"

"Yes, Mother." At this, Chame nodded and set Jareth to replanting the tree in a magicked copper planter.

* * *

"Hello, Williams residence," Karen spoke softly into the phone. She trapped the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she stirred Sarah's birthday cake and listened to the voice on the other end.

"Good evening, may I speak to Missus Karen Williams, please?"

"Speaking. May I ask who is calling?"

"I am a friend of Sarah's, Chame. I haven't met you yet, but you've met my cousin at Toby's party, or so I've heard. You have met Jareth, haven't you?"

"Oh, yes, I did. So you're Jareth's cousin? What can I do for you?"

"Well, it has come to my attention that Sarah's birthday is tomorrow, and I was wondering if you could sneak her out for a Girl's Outing," Chame replied. "Surreptitiously, of course-- I have someplace special in mind, if you could convince her to walk to the park with you; I could pick you two up and take you. You'll have to be crafty about it-- I don't want her suspecting anything!"

Karen laughed. "I'll see what I can do. What time should I try and get her out?"

"How about noon-ish? Tell your husband we'll be back sometime between three and five, and I can drop you off at your house." Just a hint of magic was in the words, enough to influence the answer without it being a full-blown compulsion.

"That sounds excellent. I look forward to meeting you-- but how will I know who you are?"

"Sarah will recognize me." Karen rolled her eyes at herself.

"Of course. I'll see you tomorrow, then. Goodbye."

* * *

Late Friday evening, Sarah, Jareth, and Faolan arrived at the Williams household.

This was, in and of itself, not a particularly note-worthy event, since it was only an hour's travel from the dorm. Nor was their arrival-- though Jareth actually visible this time, and staying in the guest bedroom with Faolan. Toby and Robert thought Faolan was just "too cool", and though it took Sarah nearly ten minutes of fast talking and heated debating, Karen allowed the wolf in the house, on the condition that he was with someone at all times.

No; though entertaining, none of these events were particularly note-worthy. It would be the events that occurred on Saturday and Sunday that would be written in Goblin history books.

* * *

(1) A clutch is a nest of dragonets.

(2) Depending on word usage, clutch can mean several things. To clutch means to hatch, to have a clutch means to have a nest of dragonets. The word is taken, I believe, from the Dragonriders of Pern series.

* * *

Oro: Raining umbrellas... I love oxymorons! Let's see, what I don't own here...  
Sarah: Labyrinth.  
Jareth: Or its characters.  
Quill: Or the reference to the Ozzy song... I like Ozzy.  
Oro: Yes, yes, we know you do. Otherwise it wouldn't have shown up here, now, would it?  
Sarah: The next announcement Oro will make is very important.  
Jareth: Very, very important.  
Quill: Unbelievably important.  
Oro: I will not be able to post next week. I will be busy studying for midterms. I may post something during the week after next, to blow off steam, but it will not be Thy Bog Overfloweth. I'm extremely sorry, but this chapter was lengthened to make up for it and the next chapter will be just as long-- if not longer. I will have it posted Saturday after next. Goodbye, and hopefully, I won't die of a brain bleed trying to remember kanji or chemical structures of lipids... If I do, you'll know because the next chapter just won't be posted. Or written. Maybe I should outline the rest of the story in my will...


	11. Of War and More War, Really

Thy Bog Overfloweth

Chapter Eleven

* * *

Jareth, despite being entombed in the tiny guest bedroom with Faolan, was daintily transferring the Draken's Maple into a crystal dome. The planter and the bonsai-cut tree gleamed brightly in the dome, and Jareth frosted the glass before adding dainty scrollwork in a soft blue and the silver. Satisfied with a job well done, the King sat back on his haunches to admire his work. He nodded before summoning a crystal, roughly the size of a baseball, and popping it with one finger.

The wood-drake that had been sleeping within the crystal opened one eye and glared at Jareth for waking it. Though he tried to maneuver the drake into the frosted crystal quickly, the tiny drake turned her head and sunk her fangs into the leather of his gloves and the fleshy palm beneath it.

He had to bite back a curse, knowing that Toby was an impressionable youth and that Sarah would have his hide if the little mortal child started swearing in Goblin.

"Stupid little--"

"Jareth! Mom says to tell you breakfast is ready!" Toby's voice was slightly muffled, which he made up for by pounding on the door. Jareth sighed.

"I'll be out in a minute, Toby," the Goblin King called, and then turned back to his task. Toby, relentless, stopped pounding but kept talking (i.e., half yelling).

"Mom says that if you don't come down soon, she'll give Sarah your waffles. Which would suck, 'cause Mom makes the best blueberry waffles in the _world_. And she says that you'd better take Faolan out for a walk soon, 'cause she won't clean up any of Faolan's messes. Can I come when you go out walking? I can keep up, honest!"

After (once again) prying the drake off his hand, he shoved the little beast through the crystal dome and turned to open the door.

"Even if you couldn't keep up, Faolan could probably carry you," Jareth told Toby. "So yes, you may join us."

Toby beamed. "Cool! I'll go tell Mom, she wants us to go right after breakfast. I know a really cool dog park we can walk to. It'll be fun!" And with that, Toby scampered downstairs to inhale his waffles and get dressed to go for a walk.

Jareth ambled down at a much more leisurely pace, stealing a glance at the clock on the microwave as he sat at the kitchen table. Ten thirty... Apparently, the Williams family broke their fast late on Saturdays.

"Morning, Jareth," Sarah greeted from across the table. She was immersed in a book already, absently spearing pieces of waffles as she read.

"What's that?" Jareth asked, interested. Sarah glanced up at him.

"A book. Duh."

He made a face at her. "You know what I mean. Is it any good?"

"Yeah."

"So what's it called?"

"Good Omens."

"May I see it?"

"After I'm done reading it, sure." Jareth rolled his eyes at this and reached across the table to pluck the book from Sarah's grasp.

"Hey! Give that back!" She rushed around the table to retrieve her book, but Jareth leaned away from her and started reading the first page. Sarah leaned over Jareth and his chair, trying to snatch her book back. He artfully twitched the book just out of reach whenever Sarah came close to grabbing it, toying with the book even as he read the first chapter.

Karen laughed quietly, called to her husband, and ran to get the digital camera from its shelf in the closet. When she got back to the kitchen, Mr. Williams was snickering in the doorway and Sarah was leaning so far over Jareth's chair that she looked about to fall over. Jareth seemed oblivious, book held an arm's length and reading it casually, as if Sarah wasn't nearly falling into his lap trying to reclaim her book. Mr. Williams watched Karen snap several pictures of the two before Karen passed the camera to him. He walked around the kitchen table, moving from a side shot of the two young people sitting (well, one sitting and the other leaning) at the table beside the window to a frontal view, allowing a much better look at Sarah's disgruntled look and putting Jareth in profile instead of capturing the back of his head.

Mr. Williams also had the privilege of photographing the exact moment when Sarah finally fell, which threw Jareth off balance and both of them were sent sprawling as the chair tipped backwards. The next two pictures were of Sarah and Jareth--unfazed by this change of setting-- resumed their struggle over the possession of the book.

The last picture was of Sarah, sitting cross-legged and victorious atop Jareth, looking over at Toby, who at some point during the battle had walked in and started laughing hysterically, and Faolan, who was quite pleased to give Jareth a tongue bath whilst the Fae man was captive.

Sly grins from Karen to Mr. Williams communicated a shared idea: _blackmail material_.

* * *

After Jareth recovered from the humiliation of the Incident (as he would forever after refer to it), he grabbed Faolan's leash and herded Toby out the door. The two were barely halfway down the street when the Goblins started showing up, the larger ones walking beside their King while several of the smaller ones sat astride Faolan. Toby was talking with them and snickering occasionally, leading the Fae King and wolf a block past Sarah's park to the dog run. The Goblins (there had to be almost twenty of them by now) scrambled over the fence to race through the wide meadow of the run, and Faolan pulled ahead impatiently as Toby fumbled with the latch on the fence.

Faolan chased the Goblins, and Toby chased Faolan, and Jareth watched, grinning. It was like this for a while, chaotic but relatively _peaceful_.

And then the other dogs showed up.

The Goblins scampered up into trees on the far side of the park while Toby and Jareth greeted the dogs' owners, and Faolan curiously inspected the dogs. They were wary in approaching him, but the wolf did nothing to discourage their ascent, and before long the canines were happily romping about. The Goblins, from their perches in the trees, decided to join in on the fun. This was what sparked the Dogs' War, which would be sung forever after in praise of Faolan, Jareth, and Toby, who protected the Goblins.

For you see, mortal dogs don't like Goblins. At all. The earthling canines were willing to accept Faolan only because Faolan was much bigger than most of them, with big, sharp, pointy teeth. The Goblins were approximately the same size as the medium-sized mortal dog, and despite having sharp teeth, the Goblins weren't likely to rip the dogs limb from limb.

The Goblins, swarming down to play with Faolan and his new friends, were met with hackles and bared teeth. The dogs, as a unit, went _crazy_, seeming (to their owners) to be chasing nothing and snarling as they did so. Faolan came to the rescue first, snapping up Goblins and carrying them to the fences, where they could climb over. Jareth and Toby started running interference for Faolan, keeping the mortal dogs, keeping them away from the fence and from the Goblins Faolan had yet to rescue. In the process, both Toby and Jareth received several bruises and Toby tripped once, earning him a rather nasty scrape.

The dogs' owners raced after their crazed canines, attempting to control them. The Goblins weren't helping much-- there were only twenty or so, but the panicked Undergrounders eluded Faolan as much as they eluded the dogs. The entire scene lasted maybe three-quarters of an hour, and then another thirty minutes of the dogs' owners apologizing profusely. Jareth assured the mortals that it was only a minor setback before calling to Toby and Faolan to journey back to the Williams house. Jareth made sure to toss a crystal at Toby while the group was out of sight to heal the bruises and the scrape; Toby didn't even notice, as he was far too busy conversing with the Goblins.

* * *

Sarah was curled up on the couch, reading, when the boys returned. Her father was goodness-knows-where, and Karen was puttering about in the kitchen. So the girl had allowed herself to become immersed in the book, losing contact with the world around her to partake in the world written into the tome. It was a form of meditation and a method of relaxation... and a weakness, as proven by Toby and Faolan when they raced up to the couch to pounce upon the reading Sarah.

She was so startled that she nearly fell off the couch, much to Jareth's amusement; the only thing keeping her on the couch was the hundred-ten and some-odd pounds of Fae wolf pinning her to the couch and the rambunctious seven-year-old climbing all over his sister and regaling her with tales of his latest Goblin adventure. Sarah's shock multiplied when her father appeared out of what she would later swear to be _thin air_ and took more pictures, announcing to Karen that he'd captured another "Kodak moment".

After thoroughly exhausting herself by chasing after her father to destroy the photonegatives (both of the latest pictures and the negatives for that morning (unsuccessfully)), chasing Jareth when he stole her book 'again' (and only getting it back when he tripped over a Goblin, who winked at Sarah before disappearing), chasing Toby for taking Jareth's side during the book battle (the traitorous snot), and chasing Faolan to retrieve her favorite pair of sock (stupid pup), Sarah crashed in her room and locked the door to ensure no one would disturb her nap.

Their plan flawlessly executed, the other Williams (and Jareth, and Faolan) gathered 'round the kitchen table to finish plotting.

"So, Karen, you'll be taking Sarah out at noon, right? That gives her about... half an hour to rest. Toby, Jareth, and I will bake the brownie cake and wrap presents. Any questions?"

Faolan whined, placing one paw on the table with a look that clearly said, _what about me?_

Mr. Williams thought for a moment. "You can act as the lookout-- make sure Sarah doesn't leave her room until Karen goes to get her, keep an eye open once they leave so we know when they'll be getting back, etc. Got it? Good. Battle stations, everyone! Ouch, Karen, I was _joking_..."

* * *

After Karen herded a very confused Sarah out of the house, the boys sprang into action. Toby pulled out the brownie mix; Mr. Williams turned on the oven and left it to preheat; and Jareth pulled out mixing bowls, measuring cups, and a glass pan. They worked efficiently, if you can call arguing over the directions on the box for fifteen minutes "efficient"; but in the end the brownie mix was made, stirred, poured, and in the oven. Forty minutes were set on the timer, and Toby crawled up the ladder to the attic and carried down the wrapping paper.

Wrapping presents in the Williams household was like an Olympic event. There had to be maximum coverage, minimum use of scissors, and maximum use of tape; Sarah in particular was known for wrapping presents in nothing _but_ colored tape. Each wrapper had a different paper to use, as Mr. Williams had several bad incidents with gift tags as a child and refused to buy them.

Toby's paper was gold, with random Jane Austen quotes decorating the paper in silver ink. He had a small pile of gifts to wrap, and was working on them diligently, using oodles of tape on every gift.

Mr. Williams had only two gifts to wrap, and his paper of choice was a deep burgundy. He worked quickly, the rhythm falling into place and the work accomplished long before the other two.

Jareth carefully wrapped the box in midnight blue paper, smoothing tape carefully over every crease. He normally would have considered it ludicrous to use so much tape, but it was like a game to see who could wrap presents the "best".

Faolan had a gift for Sarah, too. He'd found it outside while walking with Jareth, and the wolf had carried it to the dorm, and then carried it to the house. Lacking the opposable thumbs, the wolf didn't wrap his gift, but kept it safely tucked under one paw as he watched the street outside the window, an avid sentinel.

* * *

Karen walked leisurely along the streets, and listened to Sarah guess where they were going. After Sarah finally asked, "The moon?", the step-mother broke her silence by snorting before breaking into laughter. The two women continued laughing and joking, and Sarah didn't even realize that she'd been steered into the park until Chame called in greeting and waved. Sarah almost had a heart attack, but the Fae Queen jogged over, dressed in human clothing and acting suspiciously like someone off a soap opera.

On anyone else, the Queen's outfit would have been ridiculous. Hell, the outfit couldn't even be 'called' an outfit on anyone else. But Chame somehow managed to coordinate a dressy green button-up shirt and black drawstring sweatpants.

And mismatched sneakers.

* * *

The boys were arguing over, of all things, frosting colors. They'd agreed on the chocolate base frosting, but for the actual decorations and letters, each wanted to use a different color. Toby liked the red, Jareth said to use green, and Mr. Williams voted for blue.

It was a sticky situation, but eventually the three of opposable thumbs decided to alternate colors (and decorators) with every other word. Which was why the HAPPY _Twenty_ **First** BIRTH _Day,_ **Sarah**! was a little crooked. But the brownies smelled good, and the job got done, eventually.

* * *

The taxi ride to... _wherever_ was nearly unbearable to Sarah, who was a being founded first and foremost on curiosity. This tended to get her into all sorts of troubles, like the half-hour car ride in which no one would _answer_ any of her questions-- Chame just smiled mischievously and Karen shrugged with a grin whenever she asked.

"Are we nearly there?" Sarah whined in an obvious imitation of Toby.

"Five more minutes, I should think," Chame snickered. "You'll love it, Sarah. Trust me."

"Now that you mention it..." Sarah drawled. Karen rolled her eyes at the two but couldn't keep herself from grinning wryly.

More time passed-- mostly Sarah asking endless questions in hopes of getting some sort of clue about their destination-- before the taxi slowed to a stop and Chame announced, "We're here!"

* * *

There was only one thing left to do. Well, two things, really, but only one of them actually _counted_. That would be setting up the decorations in the dining room. Since the decorations consisted of a "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" banner and a funky tie-dye table cloth, the rest of the day was spent doing the second of the two things: waiting.

* * *

It was _absolutely_ _amazing_ and Sarah loved it. It was a crafts festival, and the each booth held treasures, and the colors were astonishingly vivid, and the low murmur of people talking was soothing, and the artists themselves greeted people at the booths, and scattered amongst the human's booths were Goblins and Dryads and Elves and one old Fae lady, and...

Karen was inspecting a bag at a booth two rows over when Chame was finally able to speak to Sarah.

"I take it you like the surprise?" The Fae woman asked.

"It's so cool! The artists' works are so beautiful, and I wish I knew how to make something even half as pretty as the stuff being sold here," Sarah sighed. "It must take a lot of practice, but the end results..."

Chame nodded. "Yes, the artists here take a lot of time to craft their wares. These places are one of the few where Undergrounders and Abovegrounders can mingle freely-- even if someone from Under forgets their glamour for a moment or so, people think that they're advertising a costume booth, or models for the painters. This one," Chame waved her hand encompassing, "started nearly thirty years ago, and meets once a month. Truly a Goblin's Market, is it not?"

Sarah watched a Goblin potter work at his wheel and grinned. "It is, and it's magic in every way. I'll keep Karen from buying any fruits, though; just to be on the safe side."

Chame laughed, and the two women glided on to comb through the booths for treasure.

* * *

It had to be about four thirty when Faolan barked. The deep, sharp sound startled all the others in the house, but the boys raced to the window to peer out at the taxi that had pulled up in the driveway.

Sarah stepped out first, Jareth noted, then Karen, and then... his mother? _Well, she did say that she'd take care of it,_ Jareth grumbled to himself. The women thanked the taxi driver, and Chame paid him (much to Karen's protest) before the three turned to look at the window... And laughed.

Picture this, if you will: coming home from the coolest marketplace ever to see four heads looking out the front window: a wolf and a little boy and a father and a King, all of them wearing the silliest grin that said _welcome home, we've been waiting!_

If the glare from the windows wouldn't have ruined it, Sarah would have been snapping pictures, another Kodak moment.

The women stepped inside, and Chame started a tactful retreat until Mr. Williams and Toby ushered her in and closed the door. "You're Sarah's friend," they told her, "You're always welcome here!"

They had an early dinner, eating authentic Ramen ordered from the Japanese place two blocks to the south (Jareth was relieved to find his mother was just as bad with chopsticks as he) and then bringing out the brownies. It was odd, seeing candles stuck into a pan of brownies instead of into a cake, but Sarah loved the decorations. Karen and Chame tried to guess who wrote what, and Sarah snickered before telling them a clue: the words writ with the worst handwriting were written by Jareth, not Toby. Jareth had, predictably, sulked; at least until Sarah blew out the candles and made a wish.

He captured the wish with a crystal beneath the table, breaking one of Sarah's rules, and vanished it to the guest room to hear later.

The brownie was cut up-- Sarah insisted upon having a piece with her name on it-- and while the others partook in the double-chocolate-fudge-chunk-y goodness of the brownies, Toby retrieved the carefully wrapped presents and practically shoved them at Sarah.

"Open the gold ones first!" Toby demanded, and Sarah grinned before obliging. The first gift from Toby was a puzzle that depicted a jungle scene featuring a great, tawny leopard; five-thousand pieces ("'cause anything less you finish in ten minutes!"). The second was a Rubiks Cube ("So you can stop stealin' mine and work on it at your dorm," Toby added helpfully); the last was a jewelry box that Mr. Williams had helped Toby but together and stain in the garage. Mr. Williams had even used the router to engrave _Sarah Williams_ in a fancy cursive.

Mr. Williams subtly pushed his two at her next (Karen and Chame rolled their eyes). One was a book; the complete works of Edgar Allen Poe-- Sarah started to open it, but Jareth stole it first to read the synopsis. When Sarah looked to her father for help, he shook his head and told her to read it after she opened her presents. The other burgundy parcel revealed a whittling knife, and Mr. Williams told her about the soft woods she could use as starters while carving. He'd also told her "under no circumstances are you to use that on a person, young lady!" Sarah reassured him that she wouldn't, but Jareth eyed her nervously and made an offhanded comment about how using a knife on people dulls the blade. Just in case.

Karen handed her a small bag, and Sarah rooted through it to find a pair of ear-rings, silver hoops with little copper books dangling from them. Sarah had immediately taken out one ear-ring to wear the hoop. Karen had sighed at this. "You're supposed to wear a _pair_ of ear-rings, Sarah," she chided lightly.

Faolan demanded to be next. He'd been sitting under the table (barely fitting beneath it and only managing to do so by slouching) with his head in Sarah's lap; now he reached for his gift, safely beneath his paw, and forced himself out from between Jareth and Toby to trot over to Sarah. He placed his gift on the table before her, and Sarah hugged him fiercely. "It's beautiful," she told the wolf, and he chuffed happily. It was a feather, iridescent gold and blue, probably only a finger's length, delicate and shimmery. They passed the feather around, and each tried to guess what type of bird the feather came from (Toby guessed a malamute. It took nearly ten minutes to convince him that malamutes weren't birds, and he was thinking of a mallard duck).

Jareth, impatient, slid the blue gift to Sarah (she had the most difficulty unwrapping his, and Mr. Williams and Toby drooped slightly with defeat). The box was taped up, too, and Sarah had to resort to using her new knife to open the box. Inside was a hooded sweatshirt, looking to be made of silvery-green silk but when she tried it on, the thin material was very warm and felt surprisingly durable. The shade was very familiar, but she couldn't quite place her finger on where she'd seen that shade before...

Chame stayed with the group for another two hours, and then the family (which now seemed to include Jareth and Faolan) settled on the couch in the living room to watch Van Helsing. Toby fell asleep before the movie was done, and Jareth and Sarah argued about Van Helsing's werewolf form-- "He would have been cooler with a tail," Sarah said; "Yes, but that wouldn't have been correct-- werewolves _don't_ have tails in their half-form..." Jareth retorted. "How the hell would you know?" She was incredulous, but when Jareth explained about the pack that lived in the deeper woods of the Fiery Forest, she nodded.

* * *

Jareth followed her into her room, much to Sarah's surprise. "Shouldn't you be headed for the guest room?"

"Yes, but I imagine you have some questions about the sweatshirt and I have another gift for you." He was counting on her curiosity to kick in; it did so with a vengeance as she started questioning him immediately.

"What is this material? Is it always this comfortable? Is it magic? Where did you get it? It--"

"It's the silk from the dream web, Sarah; it will always be comfortable to you and to whomever you lend it to. If it gets stolen, it will return to you almost immediately. Yes, it's magic; it's woven dreams. I "got" it by taking the web to Weaver's and having her spin and tailor it for you. And yes, it still has the properties of a dream web's cloak. Do you want your other present now?"

"What is it?"

"If I told you, it would ruin the whole "wrapping gifts" thing, Sarah. Do you want to open it now, or in the morning?"

"If I wait, I won't be able to sleep," Sarah murmured. "Alright, I'll bite. May I open it now?" He didn't miss the irony of her words, but summoned the frosted crystal from his room. It lay on the desk, waiting for her to open it.

"It's so pretty, but... How do I open it?" Jareth grinned.

"You'll have to figure that out yourself, won't you? I'm going on to bed. Good night, Sarah."

"'Night, Jareth. And thanks; you really didn't have to get me anything, you know..." Sarah trailed off at the Look he gave her.

"You're _not_ off the hook about not telling me," Jareth said sternly. "We'll discuss it later. I'll see you tomorrow." With that, he disappeared to his room, opening the door to let Faolan enter.

Sarah reached out to touch the crystal and gasped when it popped. Inside was a small tree, with ash-grey bark and red-purple leaves; it was a "weeping" tree, she could tell from the way the branches drooped gracefully to form a curtain of leaves. She gasped again when something stirred in the tree's branches-- a lion-like head rustled its way out of the leaves to peer up at her with the same surprised curiosity Sarah felt peering down at it. The head disappeared to lead a slithering wyvern's body out of the knot it had tied itself in around the tree's trunk. It floated elegantly off the planter's edge and into the air, stopping at eye-level with Sarah but dipping slightly up and down to stay afloat. It-- no, she, Sarah corrected herself-- seemed to swim through the air, the long body twisting and curving to maintain its position.

Sarah held out her hand, palm up, giving the wyvern a place to perch. It landed with the same ease it had utilized flying, and Sarah slowly sank onto her bed, still staring at the creature wrapping itself around her hand, her fingers, her wrist. It watched her for a moment more and then-- just as slowly as Sarah had sat-- she reached over, nuzzled the pad of Sarah's thumb, and nipped her in greeting.

Sarah grinned, and stroked the wyvern's mane, tracing the line of fur down the wyvern's spine. The little wyvern used its two legs to push Sarah's finger to an itchy spot on her tail, and Sarah's grin widened.

"Welcome home, little one," Sarah whispered. The two were too busy playing, and later, sleeping, for Sarah to notice that Jareth stole her book again.

* * *

Oro: This is late, and I'm sorry, but I had things come up-- like tearing the tile off the bathroom downstairs. And then Dad fell and brought down half the wall with him... But it's a long chapter! And we have a new (as of yet unnamed) character-- becuase, honestly, I'm not cruel enough to let Sarah try and cope with the boys without an ally.

Sarah: Thanks, I'm sure I'll need her and the knife...

Jareth: Your father said not to use that knofe on people!

Quill: Yes, and you're rather nervous about that, aren't you?

Oro: Ahem! Anyway, I have an idea for the little drake's name, but I am open to suggestions. If I don't get names, I'll name her after one of my many cousins. Also, for the parts above that seem choppy-- these events are occuring at the same time. If I could have formatted it, they would be written in columns, side by side. It's like in A Midsummer's Nigh Dream, when you had the stories all happening at once.

Disclaimer: I characters do Labyrinth own its or not. ((Put me in order! The author's brains are scrambled!))


	12. Of Winged Wolves and Biting Drakes

Thy Bog Overfloweth

Chapter 12

* * *

Jareth roughly shook Sarah awake. It was barely eight, but Jareth's worried look snapped Sarah into wakefulness immediately.

"What's wrong?"

"We have to leave soon," he informed her, standing awkwardly above her, a step away from the bed, warily eyeing the drake, who hissed at him. "Faolan's... well, we need to get back to the dorm, or I'll have to take us Underground. Pack quickly, we need to be at the dorm by noon at the latest, and I figured your family would want time to say their sappy goodbye and all..." Jareth yelped as Sarah swatted him for the comment.

"Give me ten minutes to get dressed, I'll take half an hour to pack, and we'll leave a note for Dad, Karen, and Toby. Toby gets up earliest, and he doesn't wake up until nine-thirty on Sundays. Go pack and get Faolan ready to go," Sarah instructed while stretching.

"We're waiting on you and that... creature," Jareth told her before gliding away. "Just call when you're ready."

Sarah turned to the still-hackling drake on her shoulder. "Today on It's the Mind, we examine the peculiar phenomena of deja vu..." She quoted."Come on, friend, we'll get ready to go and I'll pick a name for you on the way to the dorm. How's that sound?" The wood-drake trilled, and floated easily over to her bonsai perch to watch Sarah get ready to leave.

* * *

Sarah had everything except her book packed. Which was problematic, because she really liked the book and needed _something_ to read during those lulls in activity in which neither Jareth nor Chame were bothering her over this or that.

She also needed it for when she was pointedly ignoring a certain Fae King, his wolf, and his Goblins.

She'd even written the note for her family, but she couldn't for the _life_ of her find the damn book.

Sarah ended up stalking over to the guest bedroom, the still unnamed drake hiding in the fold of Sarah's hooded jacket. The mortal girl rapped lightly on the door before opening it. "Jareth, have you seen--" Upon catching sight of _her_ book on the nightstand, Sarah sighed heavily and stalked over to collect the tome. She leaned over to rub Faolan's ears (and he really did look quite miserable, poor thing) before swatting Jareth and gliding out of the room... And tripping on a wrinkle in the carpet, completely ruining the dignified exit.

It didn't take long to put 'Good Omens' away, and after that, Sarah scooped up the bonsai and waited at the door for Jareth to carry Faolan downstairs. It was an awkward trip, since Faolan was so bulky and kept wriggling, but eventually the two Fae beings made it out to the car. Sarah had taped the note to the door already, and she drove off quickly, wondering if Faolan's problem was what she thought it to be.

* * *

Jareth spent the ride balancing the bonsai and stroking Faolan's ears. "This must hurt like a sonnuva gun, but it doesn't last long," he murmured softly to the wolf. Faolan just whined pathetically.

The ride was uncomfortably tense, as Sarah sat stiffly while driving and Jareth tried to keep Faolan from jarring too much. The drake had perched on the edge of the seat, rubbing her muzzle to Faolan's in an attempt to sooth him.

It took nearly five minutes to get poor Faolan up to the dorm room, and Jareth immediately set the wolf gently on the bed. Sarah watched as Faolan shivered, and restlessly shifted his shoulders. The drake trilled uncertainly, looking from Sarah to Faolan, clearly questioning the mortal about what was happening to her furred friend.

"Jareth, would you be so generous as to explain what in hell's name is going on?" Sarah set the drake's bonsai on her desk before gliding over to sit on the bed next to Faolan to stroke the ailing wolf's brow.

"He's... Faolan isn't a mortal dog. You knew that already," Jareth fidgeted. "And you know he's Fae. But, he's... not... really a dog. At all. He's a wolf, Sarah, and Fae wolves are related to chimeras, gargoyles, and griffs. He's kind of... _growing-his-wings._" The last three words came out in a rush, and Sarah stared at him incredulously.

"Griffs?" She finally managed. Jareth nodded.

"Hippogriffs and gryffons."

"Will he have feathered wings, or bat's wings?" The shock had changed neatly into curiosity, a trait that you could safely gamble upon while dealing with Sarah.

"It depends on which pack he came from," Jareth said. He scowled and paced helplessly when Faolan whined pitifully. "It should only last and hour, two at most, for the wings to... break through." The King's voice was a mixture of frustration and comfort, as this last sentence was directed at Faolan. The wolf shot the Fae man a look of understanding, but couldn't help wincing when another shudder racked his lupine frame.

The drake burrowed into the wolf's ruff, singing a soft lullaby to her friend. Faolan seemed to take comfort from the song and Sarah's gentle touches, for nearly twenty minutes... but all too soon, another convulsive spasm ripped through the wolf, and an awful, wet _tearing_ sound followed the motion. Faolan howled loudly, and Sarah quickly forced the wolf's mouth closed as Jareth wove a muffling spell. Apologetically cradling the wolf's head, Sarah whispered to the wolf that he had to be silent, or--

A pounding on the door startled all of the room's occupants. "_Williams_! You got a dog in there?" The R.A.'s voice was loud despite the door between the voice's origin and the listeners.

"No," Sarah called back truthfully.

"Then what was that god-awful racket?" The R.A. demanded.

"An audio-clip for the Multi-Media project," Sarah lied easily. "I didn't realize the volume was so high. I must have hit the wrong key. It won't happen again," Sarah continued.

After a long, uncomfortable pause, the R.A. responded, "Just make sure it doesn't happen again, Williams." The motley group within the dorm released a sigh of relief. At least until Faolan seized again. This time, though, the rippling of the wolf's back lasted far longer than before, and two shiny black bumps protruded from just behind Faolan's shoulders. They trembled for a moment before the sleek bumps moved. Faolan shifted as the growths trembled, and then... they unfurled.

The drake trilled encouragingly as Faolan attempted to move his wings. They were thin but sturdy, even now, and while they still had some catching up to do, the wolf had a wingspan of almost five and a half feet already. Webbed but not bat-like, each wing extended from one bony, thorny limb to connect at the muscles above Faolan's spine; the limbs twisted to ripple the webbing and it took Faolan a good ten minutes to figure out how to fold his new wings.

Sarah and Jareth watched, laughing softly, as Faolan stumbled about like a new-born colt, trying to adjust his center of balance to accommodate his wings. The drake flew circles around the colt's head, and Sarah whispered to Jareth, "You'll have to take them flying!"

He nodded noncommittally, thinking, _No way am I taking the little monster flying, but I will have to teach Faolan._ The wood-drake floated happily over to Sarah, her bright mane and chine standing out as she wove herself through Sarah's dark hair. "That reminds me," Jareth said casually, "what did you decide to name the little beast?"

Both Sarah and the drake let off a disgruntled snort at the jibe. "I hadn't quite decided," Sarah started.

"Oh, just name it already!" Jareth griped irritably. The drake hissed from Sarah's shoulder before calming herself and absently floating in a loose orbit around Sarah.

"This coming from the one who wanted to name Faolan Zev," Sarah snapped. "_Anyway_, I thought I'd name _her_--" Sarah stressed the word purposely-- "Izzi."

"Izzi? As in, short for Isabelle?" Jareth turned his wary gaze away from the newly-dubbed Izzi to glance at Sarah.

"No, just Izzi. I think it suits her. It's spunky!" Sarah grinned at the wood-drake floating lazily closer to Jareth.

"Spunky isn't a word I'd use to describe it," Jareth murmured.

"Her!" Sarah corrected.

"Whatever," the Fae King scoffed. Izzi snapped forward and bit his ear. "Get _off_, you damnable drake! Sarah, remove your beast!" Izzi clamped down harder, and Sarah shook her head.

"What's said is said, and everything has a price. If you're going to be insulting, I'm going to let Izzi bite you." Jareth cursed at her response, pulling at the drake's jaws. Faolan, not to be excluded, bounded over to join the fun. Unfortunately, the wolf misjudged his pounce and knocked Jareth onto the bed.

Sarah snapped pictures with her Polaroid, hanging them up when it had finished developing. The white frames would forever more depict the memory of Jareth wrestling with Izzi, trying to pry her off his ear, and Faolan, trying to fend off the wolf. After taking these precious pictures, Sarah joined Faolan in impeding Jareth's conflict with Izzi.

Jareth swore, later, that the world was against him, and that his ear would be forever scarred from Izzi's bite, and that he wasn't rough-housing with Faolan again until the wolf learned to be more careful of the horns at the tips of his wings.

* * *

Oro: (snickers) Izzi and Jareth just don't get along. Much thanks go to OceanFae, who recommended Izzi early on. It was such a fun name that I started thinking of her as Izzi, and before I knew it, I just couldn't imagine anything else fitting, save Jessie, which was what I originally had in mind. I do like Izzi better for her; it suits the little drake.

Jareth: Ahem.

Sarah: You're procrastinating!

Oro: Don't know what you're talking about. Anyways, my apologies; this chapter isn't nearly as long as the last one, but important-- Faolan grows his wings and you get a hint at much of Jareth's encounters of the Izzian kind...

Jareth: I'm getting bit every chapter?!

Quill: Just focus on getting her to say the damn disclaimer!

Sarah: Right. (turns to find Oro missing) Or not. (turns to readers) I don't know about those two (points to Jareth and the Monty Python quote) but I belong to myself, thanks.

Quill: I'm afraid not. None of the belongs to Oro. And Oro belongs to me. Now kindly go away so I can pester the author.

Oro: (faintly, as if from great distance) I heard that! And you be nice to the readers! Please don't listen to him, he's mental!


	13. Sirens and Deathly Poetry

Thy Bog Overfloweth

Chapter Thirteen

* * *

Jareth glared at the room in general and Izzi in particular. It was all that wicked little _its_ fault, and he refused to refer to Izzi as anything other than _it_, and neither Izzi nor Sarah could force him to do otherwise.

Three weeks' house arrest. _Three weeks!_ Twenty one days, locked inside a room barely six by four by five, and with a now bulky-gangly Fae wolf and a biting _it_. Sarah was trying to drive him mad. He just knew it. He had said something, and she was punishing him for it with the clever excuse of the air-raid siren he'd accidentally set off.

* * *

Sarah sat behind the counter at the bookstore, keeping an eye on Slidge and jotting down notes on a pad of paper. _It's really quite convenient having Jareth locked at the dorm by a spell he taught me,_ she thought absently. _But if he manages to break the door frame and the boxsprings again, I'm going to hang him from the ceiling by his ankles._

It was, partially, Izzi's fault that he'd set off the air-raid siren, but a half-Fae, half-owl creature and a winged wolf had shown up on the radar, not a small wyvern, so the two bumbling boys were warded safely in the dorm. She lowered it at lunchtime and for two hours when she needed silence to study, but otherwise, they were locked away without parole-- the Air Force had been patrolling the area with helicopters since the siren, and Sarah really didn't want to explain to Chame that her son and his wolf fought a helicopter and lost.

_Particularly not if they have to be buried in a Fae puree._

Sarah's nose wrinkled in disgust. _That's gross. I can't believe I thought that..._

Slidge wandered over to the science-fiction books, pulling out a book with a picture of an alien eating a live cow on the front. He read the back aloud, flipped though the pages, and absently tossed the book over his shoulder.

"Slidge!" She hissed the word and the Goblin obediently skipped over to the counter to jump up and perch on the register.

"Ouch!" The owner looked down at the book. "...Sarah? I'm being attacked by B-horror movie scripts. Did you see who threw this?"

Ever truthful, and sure in the knowledge that her boss would expect a snarky reply on such a drizzly Thursday, Sarah responded, "A Goblin sentry, about yea high, bored out of his wits and wearing two mismatched boots. Oh, and his armor is dripping from where he was on the roof--be careful when you're walking on the tile."

The owner blinked, and then nodded like this is the most sensible thing he's ever heard. Which, knowing the eccentric old coot, is probably true. "So he's a sentry? What's he guard?"

"More like a spy, really. He's here to report half of what I do to his King, and the other half to his King's mom." The owner nods again, strolling over to sci-fi to reshelf the book. He toyed with one of the many pens he keeps in the pocket of the orange sweatpants he was wearing, and then he straightens his glasses before turning back to Sarah.

"Why only half?"

"Because the King's mother and I are conspiring against him to make sure he attends his birthday celebration. The King can't know half of what's going on, and the Queen only needs the other half."

Now the owner's head bobbed like one of those dash-board bobble-heads. "Do you need time off for this celebration?"

That gives her a moment's pause. Her boss has always been wierd, but now... "Let me check the calendar," she tells him. "I have to calculate the time difference between the realms." He watched Sarah pull out a page-a-day of Monty Python quotes that D.J. always keeps under the counter. Slidge, tired of being ignored, started unraveling the reciept paper until Sarah swatted at him.

"Hmm, three month and four day difference, party starts August ninth there, that's...June fourth here. I work the Monday/Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday shift during the summer... and it's a Wednesday." Sarah looked up from her calculations. "No, thank you, but it's very kind of you to offer."

Still nodding, the owner gaped at the receipt paper, which (as seen by the owner, who couldn't see Slidge) had been uncurling itself and then ripped off, twisting into a lance of paper to whack at Sarah. Unperturbed by the paper's attack, Sarah went back to working in the ledger.

* * *

Jareth was really rueing the day he'd decided that Sarah needed to learn magic. She may not have been as powerful as any Fae, but she was meticulous in her spellwork since the Umbrella Incident (mostly because he'd had several umbrellas framed and hung ostentatiously in her dorm room), and there was no give in the Ward that he could work with.

_A curse on you, Sarah,_ he groused half-heartedly. _Death by boredom... what a wonderful tombstone I'll have._ Aloud, he recited, "I can see it now. It'll read, _'Here's the Goblin King in grey, From the doldrums, Faded away...'_ or maybe _'Boredom killed this Faeran man, By a witch's cunning plan.'_ Oh, how about, _'Gods forgive this restless owl, Killed when he through boredom prowl'd.'_ _'Upon one listless, rainy day, the Goblin King did pass away, Suicide, at melancholy's call, death by running into a wall.'"_

"What the hell are you _doing?_" Sarah stood at the door, watching Jareth recite mausoleum inscriptions to Faolan, who wagged his tail in approval or rustled his wings in disapproval.

"I'm _bored_. As anyone in the Underground can tell you, there's nothing more annoying-- nor more lethal to themselves and everyone around them -- than a bored Fae. And it's only the fifth day of the house arrest!"

"It's also the last day of April, which means I have finals in three days. If you're that bored, you can help me study. Good evening, Faolan; Izzi, please don't eat my hair today, alright?" Izzi made a disappointed trilling noise, but when she burrowed in Sarah's hair, she made no moves to snack on it like she had yesterday.

"Study for what?" Jareth was wary, and Sarah couldn't blame him, circumstances being what they were.

"Architecture and Art in History. I'll lend you the textbook, you can copy the highlighted parts so I'll have a study guide, okay?" She tossed the book to him before he could answer, followed quickly by a notebook and a pen.

"Hey, most of this is inaccurate," Jareth said, flipping through the book. "And all these are completely useless-- castles are fortresses, not bloody window conventions. And this is supposed to be a Great Hall? Ha! This is a tea room, compared to the real ones. Sarah! My pencil and pad. It is time to wipe this filth away and leave you with the true information."

Sarah smirked, but did as she was told. She didn't actually have an Architecture and Art History course-- how could she, when she was in Indigenous Peoples of the Americas? Jareth certainly didn't know that. Then again, he also didn't know that he was designing, for the most part, his new castle, either.

Izzi watched curiously as Sarah quickly penned a letter for Chame. Faolan was too busy trying to scratch between his wings and Jareth was still scribbling furiously when Sarah passed the note to Izzi, who flew in an interesting loop before disappearing with a _pop_, the letter held securely in her jaws.

* * *

"So, the plan's going well?" Chame nodded and the High King leaned back, pleased.

"Are you sure Jareth doesn't know what's going on? He's usually pretty good at rooting out conspiracies," Naomhan commented.

"I'm sure. If he found out, Sarah would have noticed and sent me a note through Izzi... Ah, speak of the devil, here's Izzi now! She's Sarah's messenger," Chame explained. "My note, please, Izzi." The drake delicately set the folded paper in the Queen's hand, and then looked inquiringly at the other Fae.

"This is Naomhan, my husband and the Unseelie King. I expect you won't like him much, he's a lot like--" Chame was cut off by a loud stream of curses coming from her esteemed husband. She looked up from Sarah's letter to see Naomhan trying to pry Izzi's teeth out of his hand.

"A lot like Jareth," Chame finished with a sigh before moving to help her husband.

* * *

Jareth toyed absently with a crystal as he listened to Sarah and Faolan snore softly (Faolan more loudly than Sarah, it should be noted). He suspected that the _it_ was waiting for him to fall asleep so the _it_ could bite him.

Which was really why he was procrastinating... mostly. Insomnia was another reason, but since it was partially due to homesickness, he'd never admit it.

Within the crystal, Sarah's birthday wish hovered, whispering to itself, building dreams and tearing them down to build new dreams and tearing them down to... A never-ending cycle. The wish knew he was watching it and whispered just a little louder.

_"Wish I could see from other people's eyes... Wish I could see what it's like to be someone not me... Wish I could know how other people feel... Wish I could live someone else's life, just for a day..."_

"Still playacting, Sarah? My, my, my; but it seems you want to do a little more than mere acting..." Jareth murmured to himself, looking over to find the _its_ glowing green eyes entirely too close to his face. He had just enough time to send the crystal away before the _it_ bit him and his muffled snarls woke Sarah and Faolan.

"Honestly, you two, it's--" Sarah trailed off to look at the clock on the desk-- "three in the morning and you're already fighting. Izzi, let go of him. Jareth, stop provoking Izzi. And both of you... Go. To. _Sleep_."

Izzi grumbled and didn't loosen her grip at all.

"_Now_."

Izzi sighed and released the King she was biting-- the second today, she noted, and this one didn't taste as stale as the other one had-- to wrap herself around her tree, sulking all the while.

* * *

Now that he had a purpose (teaching Sarah all the inaccuracies of that dratted book she'd left him with) Jareth didn't have as much of a problem with the tiny prison of a dorm. He didn't even have to fight with the _it_, since the _it_ was off with Sarah. It was nearing lunch time, and Sarah had called from the Italian restaurant down the street, telling him to meet her there, and they had patio seating so he could bring Faolan.

He'd put down the sketchpad immediately, having found himself much hungrier than he'd thought, and cast the glamour to hide Faolan's (still rather useless, and still (unfortunately) growing) wings. The two didn't head straight for the restaurant; they were too hyper from being cooped up inside all morning. Instead, they raced around the park a few times, which gave Jareth time to ponder Sarah's Wish again.

Being a basely mischievous creature-- he _was_ the Goblin King, after all, and he was chosen because he could relate with the tricky little buggers-- his first thought was to turn her into a Goblin. She'd hit him for it, of course, but the Wish specified a whole day as "someone else", nothing else. _Goblins count as someones_, he thought as he strode several feet ahead of the still-clumsy wolf pup he was racing.

_She'd like being an owl,_ was his next thought, followed closely by, _she'd like being anything that flies, if her griffin-back ride was any indication. Maybe I'll turn her into a magpie. It suits her personality..._

Faolan started to pull ahead, racing to the end of the street. Jareth snapped out of his mental meanderings to run faster, determined to beat the wolf to the restaurant.

Neither of them seemed to notice the cheers from the students and storekeepers watching them, nor the minor bets Sarah was making. The two Fae were to busy running at breakneck speed to see the people around them, especially Faolan, who was concentrating on not tripping over his still-too-large paws.

Jareth beat Faolan by half a step, and was brought back to what Sarah called the Real World by the clapping and/or dejected grumbles of the gamblers. Sarah seemed to be accepting a lot of money from complete strangers, and the waiter sighed as he left the patio to bring out menus for the two people and the wolf (and Izzi, but the waiter couldn't see her).

"What in the Underground were you doing?" Jareth asked as he watched Sarah pocket the money.

"We saw you two come tearing down the road and we all started betting on who would get here first. I figured turning a situation to my monetary advantage was more face-saving than standing here being mortified by the fact that my guest races wolves. I made out pretty well, too-- forty dollars and free appetizers."

Jareth stared at her for a moment, then looked down at his rival. The Fae man and wolf traded confused looks before turning aforementioned confused looks upon Sarah.

Izzi snickered, a sound akin to both rustling tree leaves and babbling brooks.

The Fae King just shook his head as he sat down, but at least he knew what she was going to wake up as next Sunday. _That gives me two days to get ready, and Saturday night to cast the spell,_ he mused. _Wish granted, Sarah._ Internally, he cackled with wicked mirth. Externally, he stole Sarah's drink and started the now-expected Noon Word War IX.

* * *

Oro: Yes, it's a day late; I'll probably switch to posting on Saturdays soon since Tech starts next week and Tech runs till ten most Fridays. As for today, I was inking my friend's sixteenth birthday present-- a tiger in gold ink on black paper, tribal style and rather fiery. Whoever said a tiger can't change its stripes never drew one three times over.

Quill: With a toothpick, no less.

Jareth: I still don't understand why you couldn't wait to get a brush.

Oro: Details, details, details. I needed something small with a good point to work on the stripes, which are rather thin and count as _details_.

Sarah: What am I turning into?

Oro: Can't tell you, it'll ruin the suprise.

Jareth: Hey, wait a minute-- she gets to read the story and I don't?

Quill: Yup. Silence, fool, the Stupid One approaches...

Disclaimer: ...Own nothing, sue noone...


	14. Metamorphisis and More Biting Drakes

Thy Bog Overfloweth

Chapter 14

* * *

On Sunday, May third, Sarah Williams woke up feeling very strange.

... Stranger than usual, anyway.

Which was, indeed, saying something. Sarah, as a Friend of Goblins, was used to waking to find wierd situations occurring, but she was fairly sure her nose wasn't supposed to be flat and dark grey. Or that her vision was supposed to sharpen and change range, or that her ears were supposed to twitch. Or that her neck was supposed to be so long, or that she was supposed to have cloven hooves in the place of her hands. Or that she was supposed to have a long, silky mane instead of hair, or that she was supposed to have soft, water-tight, grey skin. Or, most importantly, that she was supposed to have a long, pinnipedal tail.

The air was thick around her, and when Sarah moved her head, the mane floated around her face, wrapping itself around her muzzle and getting in her eyes. She tossed her head irritably and heard a chuckle from somewhere off to her right.

Another creature swam closer, forelegs pulled up to make him more aqua-dynamic, his tail not horizontal like hers but vertical, like a shark's. The analogy was well placed, she thought, seeing the fangs in the horse's head. He circled closer with one more sweep of his tail propelling him forward, moving around Sarah to stand before her. This creature, like her and not, was jet black with a white-gold mane and oddly familiar eyes...

**-Enjoying yourself, Sarah?-** The voice was, quite distinctly, Jareth's; Sarah tried to speak verbally to respond, but found herself mute. Irritated, she tried sending a thought to him, quite surprised when it worked. Though the thought had only been two words (and two rather impolite ones, at that), Jareth laughed again.

**-You might want to work on volume control, Sarah. I'm not so far away that you need to yell-, **Jareth informed her. Sarah cussed at him some more, then, testing, turned using her front legs and kicked with her tail.

Sarah was shocked when she shot forward, and nearly ran into Jareth as he smoothly kept pace with her. **-Keep at it-,** he encouraged. **-You'll get the hang of it soon enough.-**

_#Just what in hell's name are we?!#_ Sarah demanded. Jareth shouldered her to steer her around a rather large mound that looked suspiciously like black coral. _#And where?#_

**-We are, at the moment, Kelpies-,** Jareth replied. He swam ahead of her by a pace, looping up and around to swim by her side again. **- As for where... We are in Loch Akkesha'nebb... Translated, Lake Grey-Realm. It was named by the Mer--the Kelpies who live here have never seen a need to name the wild places.**

**-And before you ask why... It's what you wished for, dear mortal. Or dear Kelpie, as it may be. By the bye, you do make a lovely Kelpie. Just think of all the mortals you could tempt to Mizut'kai!-**

_#I am not going to kill people! I don't care if I am a Kelpie, I refuse!#_

**-Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, did you learn nothing during your trip through the Labyrinth? Nothing is as it seems. Only those mortals with an affinity for magic can see a Kelpie, Mizut'kai is a haven for mortal magic practitioners. One of the most famous to have been brought there is Arthur Pendragon.-**

_#But he was taken by the Lady of the...#_ Sarah stopped, both her thought and her motion. _#Lake.#_ The last word of the thought was barely a whisper.

**-Caught on, have you? Kelpies are shape-shifters, Sarah. We-- well, they, but we while we are among their numbers-- can shift into many forms other than that of a lost pony or horse. It is one of our-- their-- favorite forms, but we--they-- can become almost anything. Including people.-**

_#Is it their favorite because they are closer to horses, biologically?#_ The curiosity, always a determining feature in Sarah's actions, had started to take over, and Jareth tossed his head with a grin... Well, it was a grin, but it looked more like a bearing of the wicked fangs that were a Kelpie's teeth.

**-Honestly? Kelpies are closer to cats than to the modern horse. But one of the horses' ancestor evolved from the offspring of a Kelpie and another of their ancestors... the creature spawned was labeled merychippus by your scientists. That was long, long ago, however.-**

_#How do I work this thing? I can go straight, but I don't know how to turn.#_

**-Lean whatever direction you need to go, I'll guide you through the rest-,** Jareth said. He spent the next half-hour teaching Sarah to turn without rolling upside-down, and another hour after that teaching her the use of the forelegs--balance. She kept tilting while swimming, and though he found it highly amusing to watch her slip sideways, Sarah wasn't so pleased. She made this known by biting him, and she was pleasantly surprised to find her teeth as sharp as his.

**-This way, Sarah-,** Jareth called to her as he glided ahead. He proceeded to lead her through the water to a forest of kelp, watching as she weaved her way carefully through the long leaves. The kelp, too, was a deep grey, Sarah noted. _Everything here is so murky, _she mused. _I wonder why..._ Before she had a chance to ask him, she realized Jareth was nowhere to be found.

Sarah looked around uncertainly, wondering if he was playing some sort of game. She felt something tap her shoulder, and turned to see an old woman floating beside her. She reached out with a thought, cautiously.

_#Who and what are you?#

* * *

_

_'This was **not** what I imagined doing,'_ Jareth groused darkly. He motored after the kappa, a water goblin and thus under his jurisdiction, heading towards the tribe's caves.

**-What is it you need, Kappa?- **The irritation was very clear in his thought, and the Kappa flinched, but didn't stop swimming.

"You need to see this, Sire," the Kappa said. Its voice was slightly muffled by the water, but it was audible in a way no mortal voice would have been. "It's... not... Well, you just have to see it, my King." The Kappa shot ahead, turning sharply. Jareth, as a Kelpie stallion, followed close behind, turning agilely where the Kappa had, and stopped short at the sight before him.

* * *

_#I'm sorry. Is Jenny Greenteeth who you are, or what you are?# _The old lady laughed at Sarah's tentative question and held up one spindly finger. With it, she gestured Sarah to follow.

_:Your Kelpie-King is this way:_, Jenny crooned. _:Won't you go to see him?:_

Sarah paused for a moment. _Should I trust her?_ _#He's not my King#,_ Sarah quibbled, and Jenny waved off her comment with her long, bony hand.

_:Your Kelpie-King,:_ Jenny insisted. _:Follow, follow, you must follow!:_

_Major bad feeling here... Something's not right! _Sarah kept this thought to herself. _#My Kelpie-King#_, Sarah agreed, baffled. _#Lead on, if you would.#

* * *

_

The Kelpies are, by nature, not very social. There were a great deal of Kelpie within Akkesha'nebb, but one could wander for days without meeting a single one, much less the hundreds gathered at the reef before him. Usually, you could find a couple dozen at Mizut'kai, but not in these numbers.

**-Araskuro!-** Jareth sent out the call wildly, sweeping forward, staying a good ten feet above the passel of Kelpies. The seemed a mass of grey or black bodies, broken up only by the rainbow of manes, each mane being a different shade or even shades, as some were streaked.

**_Jareth,_** the answer came. _**What brings you here, air-beast? I'd think you'd be more likely to attend your Kappas' meet than to a Kelpie congregation.**_

**-I brought a friend here to show here more of the Underground, and one of the Kappas dragged me away to see what was going on here. Which reminds me...-**

**_There's been an increase in grindylow attacks, _**Araskuro rumbled. _**We plan to hunt them down. Where is your friend? We'll retrieve him before the hunt commences.**_

**-Her. I left her in the forest of kelp to the west... Oh, no. I know that look. I left her at the grindylow den, didn't I? Damn it, I was taking her here to the reef, but I wanted to watch her get tangled up in the kelp...-** Jareth had already turned and started racing back to where he'd left Sarah.

**_Kelpies! Follow and attend!

* * *

_**

Now Sarah _knew_ something was wrong. Jenny had lead her deeper into the forest of Kelp, not further, and it didn't make sense for Jareth to have come this way. She was smaller, more nimble if less graceful, and Jareth's larger Kelpie frame would have gotten him tangled in the kelp by now.

Sarah hung back a little when Jenny Greenteeth rushed ahead. That hesitation let her see the grindylows rush out from the kelp. With a yelp--strangled by the water-- Sarah turned tail (_literally_, she thought, a tiny but hysteric) and fled through the kelp.

The grindylows followed her as she weaved through the long strands of kelp, and a few snarled as the kelp grabbed at them. Sarah desperately tried to remember any spell to aide her, but the only spells she knew how to cast without a rune was for summoning Goblins and tying shoes...

Hadn't her Japanese teacher told her about water-imps when they covered a unit on mythology?

She half-prayed, half-wished for luck as she altered the spell to summon water-Goblins, and then she unleashed the spell. In her hurry, she decided to add the shoe-spell, just in case... Sarah heard something happen, but she kept swimming, angling up and kicking her tail as hard as she could, given the circumstances.

Sarah was shocked when she shot out of the kelp and into Jareth and another Kelpie.

_**I take it this is your friend, air-beast?**_ The strange Kelpie sounded amused, and Jareth really couldn't blame him.

**-Yes, this is Sarah.-** The Kelpies on the hunt swarmed forward into the forest of kelp, and the water soon rang with the sound of laughter.

**_What in the Underground is going on? _**Araskuro queried. _**Follow, Jareth and friend.**_

_#Hey! I have a name, you know!#_

**-Right, I forgot. Eh, Araskuro, Sarah, Sarah, Araskuro. He's the Guardian of the Kelpie, somewhat like a King. Araskuro, I warn you, she's a little edgy about names, and she figured out biting while I was laughing at her earlier...-**

The Guardian snorted and moved through the kelp. He halted when he reached the other Kelpies, as did Jareth and Sarah, who'd followed him.

**_Who did this? _**Araskuro sounded frankly admiring as he looked at the knot of furious grindlylow and the Jenny Greenteeth caught by the kelp. A band of armed Kappas circled the giant knot, growling at the grindlylows when the captives struggled too fiercely or lashed out at the laughing Kelpies.

"She did, sir. Hello again, Sire," the Kappa from before answered. "They were like this when we got here about a minute ago, but we thought we should keep guard, Sire."

**-Good thinking. Speaking of thinking, what were _you_ thinking, Sarah, to go further into the kelp like that?-** Jareth turned to Sarah, voice deceptively mild.

_#Some lady told me to follow her, and she'd take me to wherever it was that you'd disappeared to#_, Sarah snapped, irritated. Araskuro watched the two bicker for almost ten minutes before he interrupted.

_**Jareth, you said you'd brought your friend, not your mate.**_

_#What?!#_

**-Just because we fight like an old mated couple doesn't mean we are-**, Jareth protested.

**_If you say so. Are you going to show your lady-friend the reef while the rest of us clean up this mess? You're wlecome to stop by Mizut'kai, too._**

**-Thanks, water-horse. We'll be doing that, then.-** Jareth started herding a still-sputtering Sarah toward the reef.

**_See you around, air-beast.

* * *

_**

"How did it go?" Chame asked Jareth as they stopped by her court to pick up Faolan and Izzi. Izzi had already twined herself into Sarah's hair, seemingly suffering from separation anxiety. _Who'd've thought that the it suffers from co-dependency as well as mania and misandry? _Jareth wondered.

"You know Sarah, she's always the heroine. Not three hours there and she goes and solves the local grindylow problem after getting lost." Faolan leaned heavily against Jareth, and Jareth reached down to rub the wolf's ears. "How did Faolan and the it behave?"

One of Chame's lady-in-waitings giggled. "Faolan is still learning to use his wings, isn't he? He crashed into the same tree three times while chasing Izzi!"

"And Izzi was marvelous, except for when your father dropped by and she felt the need to bite him."

"And the emmisary, my Queen," called out one of the courtiers.

"And the Duke of Retroze," cried another.

"And the chef."

"And the Knights..."

"All nine of them!"

"Izzi," Sarah scolded. "You know better than to bite people." Izzi just thrummed smugly, and Jareth shot Sarah a Look (a Look is akin to a glare, but it isn't as powerful; it is more powerful than a glance or scowl, however, because of its lovely capital). Sarah sighed.

"It's late Aboveground and you two have had a long day, you two best be going back," Chame said. She embraced both her Fae son and mortal co-conspirer and sent them back.

"A very busy day you've had," she mumbled as she fingered the letter Sarah had slipped into her pocket, "and a very busy couple of weeks before you, unless I miss my mark."

* * *

Oro: And we race head-first towards the end... (sighs) Ah, well, I'll draw this out five more chapters or so, I reckon. How many of you thought Jaret would say, Screw it, I'll make her a Goblin? C'mon, hands up, people... I almost turned her into a hat like the Wise Man's. It was very tempting.

In case HRH's logic isn't clear to you, he decided that Sarah enjoyed gambling so much, she should become something that can actually race. Yup, his mind is wierd like that.

Sarah: Agreed.

Jareth: Hey!

Oro: Anyway, not as much humor in this one, but it was fun to write. Just a heads up: pinnipedal is the type of tail seals have, it's the scientific term. Merychippus is an extinct ancestor of the modern horse. Kappas are Japanese water imps (taken from _ka_, river, and _pa_, an alternative way to read the kanji for child), Kelpies are water-horses (the line about killing people reffers to how Kelpies are said to drown their riders), grindylows and Jenny Greenteeth are English water-beings said to eat people.

Quill: She owns the plot, some of the characters, the names of the places, and nothing else. She doesn't even own herself. But shh, don't tell her that, she thinks she's free...


	15. Illness, Nemocracy, and Cheese

Thy Bog Overfloweth

Chapter 15

* * *

Each morning from May fourth through May twelfth, Sarah woke cautiously, half expecting to find herself in another _hers-not-hers_ body, one achingly familiar and bizarrely different like the Kelpie form had been.

And as Jareth would say, dear deities, that one day had provided her with enough fodder for her Re-imagining writing class to last... probably long past her college career, actually.

It had also given Sarah the _weirdest_ dreams, even by her standards; in the last one, Jareth and she had been arguing (not very unusual, dreaming or awake) and the Goblin King had been angry enough to threaten Toby. She, in all her infinite wisdom, ignored the King's warnings, and Toby turned into the oddest Goblin, somewhere between a mouse and a llama... Then he started wailing. Well, it was more of a screeching bagpipe cry. Toby-llama-Goblin started yodeling in this awful noise, pausing regularly for breath...

Sarah'd jerked into consciousness and slapped off her alarm clock. Jareth shot her a very peculiar look as she rolled out of bed, dodging Faolan and scooping up Izzi as she stumbled into the bathroom.

Jareth glanced down at Faolan, noting the wolf's confused expression. "Damn her writer's hide and mind, the blasted girl projects her dreams as loud as a person shouting through a megaphone. If she keeps this up, I doubt I'll get any rest."

Truly, the Goblin King did look unrested. There were faint shadows beneath his eyes, and a rather sleepy cast to his face, and a stiffness of the back that comes from an uneasy, awkward sleep, and he had bed head. For the Jareth, this meant that half of his hair retained its usual shape as a fluffy crown while the other half was plastered to his head.

Sarah noticed his odd demeanor when she returned from the bathroom. A rather damp Izzi floated through the air to perch on her tree as Sarah made the Goblin King sit down and get his temperature taken via digital thermometer. _One hundred and nineteen point three,_ Sarah read with shock. _Is that a fever or just a quirk that comes from living Underground?_

"Jareth, what's the healthy body temperature of the Fae?" She tried to keep her voice neutral as she stared at the thermometer.

"Dunno," he told her candidly. "Why?"

"Because according to the thermometer, you should be denaturing. You would be dead if you were human, and I really need to know you aren't about to drop dead."

Jareth rubbed tiredly at his temples and pointed to the bonsai tree Izzi sat on. "Send my mother a message through the tree, she'll know."

Sarah eyed the tree questioningly. "How do I do that?" Izzi's head bobbed up and down, expecting a note to teleport to the Queen. Very subtly, Sarah shook her head at the little drake, who proceeded to sulk in her tree.

"Write a note, I'll fold it for you and you'll tie it a certain way on one of the tree branches. Then you write the recipient's name on the note and tell the tree where they are. Mind you, this only works with some people. My mother is of the deepest forests, so she'll get the note, and even if she doesn't, one of her courtiers will."

Sarah penned the note quickly, hoping Chame would read between the lines and see Sarah's rather pathetic query, "what do I do now?" Jareth folded the letter with a few practiced twists before handing it back over to Sarah.

"Twist it as you fold it under," he instructed, "and then you just loop it through. Did you get it?" When Sarah nodded, Jareth continued. "Use one of the many multiplying pens you keep--"

"They don't _multiply_!"

"Sarah, you had three pens when we came back from Toby's party. You now have nineteen. They've multiplied. Anyway, write down Chame Yasei... Do you need help spelling it?"

"Jareth, which one of us took four years of Japanese in high school, you or me?"

"You did..."

"I don't need help spelling your mom's name. What location do I say?"

"Dryad's Thicket, I should think. The note won't leave if it's the wrong place, so don't worry about the wrong person getting the message." Sarah repeated the location, and the note faded into the bonsai's bark with a sucking sound. Jareth slumped down on the bed.

"I predict a very embarrassing spectacle approaching," he drawled. Indeed, the words had barely faded from the air when Chame shimmered into view, a sprite hanging over her shoulder.

"Jareth, what's wrong? Are you really sick? Have you been getting enough fiber?" Chame fussed over her son as the sprite flitted over to speak with Sarah.

"Is there anything I can do to assist you and the Goblin King, Lady Sarah?" Sarah shook her head, staring at the sprite.

_It's not fair,_ she thought sullenly. _All these Fae creatures are supposed to be tiny little things, and they're all taller than me!_ Aloud, she rectified her previous assessment. "I need to know how to keep his fever down, if he has a fever," Sarah told the sprite. "And if you could inform a couple of Goblins, I'm sure they'll head on over to help me... and tend to His Majesty while I'm in classes."

"He has a fever," Chame called from where she was bullying Jareth into returning to bed. "Use ground poppy seeds to make a tea and sprinkle in chamomile leaves; it'll help with the headache. Valerian will help him sleep, which will help break the fever." Chame set a satchel of herbs on Sarah's desk chair, greeting Izzi as the drake poked her head out from the weeping boughs of the bonsai.

"I'll get going, then, and leave Her Majesty to explain," the sprite said as he flicked his translucent moth's wings about him like a cloak and disappeared.

"Just keep a window open, let him rest, and make him eat vegetables and proteins. Actually, make him drink milk-- it'll be good for him, protein and calcium, it'll get him better in no time. Unless he develops a cough, in which case he shouldn't have lactose at all and you should call for me immediately. Be careful, though, he's faked coughs in the past to keep from drinking the medicinal brews, which tend to make coughs worse--"

"Mother, I was fifty-two the last time I did that," Jareth protested. His arguments were cut off by Chame's continuation of medical advice and by the arrival of the Goblins.

Sarah passed on Chame's instructions to the Goblins and promised to return at noon with food. She then left for class, leaving Jareth to the tender mercies of Goblin nurses.

* * *

Sarah listened half-heartedly to her algebra teacher's droning lecture. She'd left her textbook at home, anyway, so it didn't really matter that her thoughts were on the busy times she would have in the next two weeks...

Jareth was still blissfully (_and blessedly,_ Sarah thought) unaware that his attempts to "rectify" the mistakes in the book on medieval castles were being converted into the floor plans for his new castle. His family had overseen the deconstruction of the original Castle and the City around it with the help of the Goblins, the Earth-callers (beings that varied, being confined to no single species but brought together by a similar calling, pun intended), trolls, and anyone else the family of royals could convince, black-mail, or otherwise rope into helping.

This brought Sarah's wandering mind to Jareth's family. So far, she'd only met Chame, Fletcher, and Ravyn; Chame had shown her a family portrait. In addition to raising Jareth, Fletcher, and Ravyn, Chame had raised triplet boys and two more daughters. The triplets, Keenan, Rory, and Ahearn, were the masters behind the stone-smithing that was raising Jareth's new Castle. Ravyn's husband, Aodhan, was an architect by trade when he'd met the eldest of Chame's brood, so he was in charge of the others. Aibhilin and Emer were overseeing the reconstruction of the Goblin City; as the youngest siblings, the others had some doubts about the quality of the new City, but Chame had shown Sarah their blueprints and Sarah thought it was genius.

"Miss Williams, if you'd be so kind," the professor called out, snapping Sarah's mental meanderings.

"Three x squared root four of nine," she replied, hoping to hell and back that she was answering the right problem. The professor gazed at her a moment longer, waiting for her to revert to her slacking, his demeanor accusatory. When Sarah continued to pay attention, the professor continued the lesson.

Safe once more, Sarah regressed to her trip down Things I Should Have Riddled Out Ages Ago Avenue. It's really quite easy to get there, you know. Take a left down Memory Lane, head straight past Regrets Road, take a right off Troublesome Stuff; the Avenue is the second street after Problems I've Had Cul-de-sac and the first street after What I'm Dealing With Now Boulevard.

* * *

Goblins, it should be known, are generally not good nurses. They're amazingly resilient, and they tend to get sick 1.8 times in their life (number courtesy of _The City Courier_, Health and Sports section, volume 3,427,659,778, Sun's Day Edition).

So it just stands to reason (if one even wishes to _attempt_ applying reason to any of the Fae folk, especially the chaotic Goblins) that the Goblins don't have much use for gentle bed-side manners that many doctors have. In fact, they make damn lousy doctors for the most part, and the four attending to Jareth were no exception.

"She said poppy tea for sleep, ijit," Roffle growled.

"Nuh-uh," Gupple argued. "Chamomee for sleepy!"

"For sleep? Never! It's valerian!" Yrrile snarled.

The scholar sat on the bed and sighed. "So sorry for their idiocy, Majesty. I'll brew some valerian for you; do you want something to read while you wait?" Jareth scanned the shelf above Sarah's desk. One book in particular stood out to him, and Jareth pointed to it. The scholar, Timbrou, nodded and gestured; the book flew off the shelf to rest on the bed beside the Goblin. "Happy reading, Majesty. Should I dismiss the others?"

Jareth glanced at the bickering three. He considered the thick book that he now held in his lap. He considered the raging migraine he had. He considered the noise the clueless (but rather amusing) Goblins were making. He considered how long it would take for Sarah to get back and dismiss all four Goblins...

Jareth nodded firmly, and Timbrou shooed the other three Goblins away before scampering off to brew valerian root tea.

Satisfied with the silence, Jareth pushed himself up to sit, resting his back against the wall. He cracked open the book and nearly fell over in horror.

_What in the Underground is she learning?_ He thought, alarmed. Jareth glanced at the clock, estimating that it would be another two hours before Sarah got back. Morbidly curious, he flipped to a random chapter and started skimming the words in the book. When Timbrou returned with his tea, Jareth quietly thanked the Goblin scholar and let his scholar fuss over the pillows and whether or not the King was hungry and if the tea was helping his majesty and...

An hour later, Jareth shut the book and got situated to nap. _I'll have a talk with Sarah later,_ Jareth told himself as he let the valerian do its job.

((Early author's note: I could have ended this here. I was sorely tempted to do so, but one of you lovely readers should know what the book is, and it really wouldn't be _fair_ to the rest of you to cut it off here. And yes, I do have a basis for comparison, thank-you-very-much. I'm just not telling you what that basis would be, so nyah.))

* * *

When Sarah knocked on her dorm room door, it was Timbrou who answered. The little Goblin kindly held the door open so Sarah could enter without trying to juggle the bulky bag of food one-handed.

"Do you want to stay and eat lunch with us, or do you have somewhere to be?" Timbrou informed her that, sadly, he had to get going. The Goblin woke his King before he left, letting Sarah dump the food on the foot of her bed; she called for Izzi and woke Faolan as Jareth blinked sleepily at the bag and its contents, spread at his feet.

Something must have clicked in his mind, because suddenly, Jareth looked up at her angrily. Sarah's mental voice (a rather unhelpful, sardonic voice that sounded suspiciously like a cross between Sarah's aunt and... Chame, now that she stopped to think about it) sang under its breath, adapting the beginning of a song. _The color of his eyes were the color of insanity..._ The voice supplied in response to Jareth's sudden mood change. Ignoring the voice, the rest of Sarah's thoughts wondered if her last dream was an omen. She hoped not-- Toby couldn't sing for anything.

"Since when do you learn killing spells and necromancy, Sarah? I expected better of you." When Sarah just gazed back at him, nonplussed, Jareth held up the book he'd been looking at earlier. "These runes at the beginning kill most lower classes of the Undergrounders," he continued, furious. "The later chapters are instructions for resurrecting and controlling those killed. Why do you have a book like this?"

Sarah looked at the cover of the book and blinked sharply. She took a deep breath and reached for the book. Jareth didn't let it go, and after tugging at the damn thing for two minutes, Sarah gave up and reached instead for a plate and a calzone.

"For your information, Jareth, Algebra is a required course in college. Those are math problems, not... not... killing curses!" That sounded so Harry Potter that Sarah's mental voice laughed at her.

Faolan rumbled as he watched Sarah and Jareth argue about the effect that negative inverses of square roots would have on dwarves; Izzi (being more of an opportunist) stole half of Jareth's sandwich. She would have taken all of it, but Jareth had lunged for the rest of the sub sandwich and swatted at the loaded drake when she flew closer to try and steal the other half. he drake responded to Jareth's defensive maneuvers by throwing cheese at him.

Sarah, being the nice person that she was, shared her calzone with Faolan so Jareth got to keep the rest of his decimated lunch. Then again, she also laughed at Jareth for having cheese stuck to his face; her laughter only increased when the Goblin King started grumbling about getting slapped by cheese.

* * *

Oro: Tech is going, again, so I'll be updating on Saturdays and Sundays until it's over. Actually, I doubt this story will outlast Tech-- the play is mid April, and there's not that much left, only three weeks to go. Huh.

Quill: Forgetting something?

Oro: Of course not! I'm merely... conviniently misremembering!

Quill: She doesn't own Labyrinth, its characters, or the song _Devil's Dance Floor_ by Flogging Molly, which inspired (i.e., she took most of it) the line by the mental voice. Personally, I think she's mental...

Oro: Yes, well, I have Tech to blame for that. One of the other Techies put the song on while we were working and it got stuck in my head.


	16. A Plot Hole Fixed

Thy Bog Overfloweth

Chapter 16

* * *

It took Jareth nearly a week to get over his illness, which was both a blessing and a curse to Sarah. On the one hand, he was pretty out of it when she started giving him human medicines; doped up on Benadryl, the Goblin King wasn't in the right shape to notice Sarah was gone most of the day. On the same hand but the other side, the Goblin King on Benadryl was irrational and half-delusional; several times Sarah had returned to her dorm to find Jareth arguing with the door, telling it that "under no uncertain circumstances" was it to "attack Faolan again, if you have to hurt something, save it for the _it_."

At least she hadn't been there when the Goblin King was convinced he was really a couch cushion. Jareth had traumatized poor Faolan.

But on the other hand, Jareth had decided to teach Sarah to fly during his semi-delirious days. Sarah had even made him sign it in writing, which was why the strange four were at a park in the middle of the night... Jareth wouldn't have been convinced otherwise. He had mumbled the entire car ride to the park, something that Sarah couldn't quite make out but that sounded suspiciously like "Stupid obsession with transformations..."

Faolan was already happily stretching his wings while Izzi floated in loops around Sarah and Jareth was busy teaching Sarah the basics before they set about flying.

"Do not try to fly as soon as you shift our shape," Jareth warned her. "You'll be disorientated for a moment or two; and before you comment on my flight, just keep in mind that I have had several centuries to practice--you haven't. Once you've shifted, stretch your wings and legs to get the feel of them before you try anything."

"What kind of bird will I be?" Sarah asked, eager to begin.

"At this time of night? Something nocturnal. Beyond that, I don't know. Later, I'll take you flying Underground during the day and you can learn your first diurnal form. But the first two are always based on you, and your personality, to some extent; you won't be able to choose your form until later. Remember, this is more complex magic than what you've been learning... expect some difficulty!"

"Hey, wait a minute," Sarah said suddenly. "If you have more than two bird forms--"

"Avian. Drakes and griffs don't belong to the same genus as birds." Sarah glared at Jareth's interruption.

"_Avian_ forms that you can take, why are you always a barn owl?" Jareth sighed, but answered.

"As my first avian form, a barn owl is the easiest for me to take Aboveground. My second form is diurnal, true, but much larger..." Jareth trailed off and would have left it there, but Sarah's expression and gestures forced him to continue, "An osprey is a might bit more impressive, but it's bulkier and not as quiet. With you, I can only wonder. I bet you'll be some mutated magpie... or a screech owl." Sarah glared, but when Jareth started teaching her to pull and shape the magic around and within her, she relaxed.

To work with magic, she found, was as peculiar as to work with soothing live-wires. The presence of the magic was calming, but to have contact with the magic was like sticking your hand in an electric socket while bathing: absolutely shocking, raising your hair and reverberating within your bloodstream.

The oddest part (and the most unsettling) was that while she shaped the magic, Sarah could feel herself re-shaping. The vaguest thought effected the magic's twisting, and Sarah nearly turned to mist while thinking of air and wind instead of feathers and bone structure. At last, though, she formed the image in her mind and in the magic: a bird, with a beak and wings and feathers... dear lord, the amount of different feathers! Jareth had insisted that she know them all by name and purpose. She paid special attention to the wings, though still keeping the vision vague.

Once she had the image, once she had the magic shaped, once she took a deep breath and prepared herself... Sarah let go. The magic coursed through her, around her, changing hair to feathers, lengthening fingers and truncating the rest; the ground rushed to her with dizzying speed and Sarah staggered, distinctly noticing the way her sight and hearing sharpened as it allowed her to see Jareth laughing as he shifted and hear Izzi's confused trill.

Sarah hopped irritably when the magic settled again; the ground seemed entirely too close. Jareth had already winged his way over to her, and she thrashed her wings wildly to smack him when she heard him hoot. Sure, it _sounded_ concerned, but there was an underlying note of amusement in the barn owl's call.

**-Sarah, I'm shocked. A flammulated owl?-** Jareth, as a much larger owl, easily pinned Sarah's wings with his talons. **-Stop that before you hurt yourself, shorty.-**

Izzi slithered along the ground to insert herself between the wrestling owls (well, one fighting owl and one laughing owl) to hiss at Jareth. He hissed right back at her, but when Izzi hackled, Jareth hopped back two steps.

Sarah found it very odd to look _up_ at Izzi, who was enjoying herself as she flipped up Sarah's contour feathers to brush against the semiplumes and filoplumes-- which startled Sarah and made her jump, knocking into the drake's jaw. The paw grooming her feathers halted and Sarah ruffled her feathers to straighten them.

_#Sorry, Izzi, that tickled.#_ Sarah "sang" the words aloud as well as telepathically, and the sound of her new voice startled her again.

Jareth laughed at her again and set to teaching her to fly.

* * *

_Flying is awesome,_ Sarah thought as she soared above the campus. She was heading to her next class, actually, and she found that she could fly much faster than she could run. Jareth had taught her how to tie her backpack into the spell, and Sarah only had to walk casually into one of the many empty classrooms and launch herself out a window to be on her way.

The owl form she took seemed a little conspicuous in the daytime, but honestly, none of the students ever looked up at her and all the teachers were inside. Sarah shuddered to think of whatever mischief Jareth and Faolan were up to, but Izzi kept pace beside her and Chame assured her that the Goblins would let her know if anything happened to their King.

_Jareth, idiot though he may be, really is a good teacher,_ Sarah mused. It had taken him only two hours to teach her to fly, including traffic laws. Most of it was common sense-- like letting larger birds of prey pass unless you were confident in your ability to out-maneuver them, or checking to be sure that the windows/glass doors are open before flying into them (Sarah learned that one the hard way). Some of it, though, was more complex-- feather positioning, or making herself aerodynamic; these were now second-nature and she'd first become an owl only two days ago.

Chame had visited while Jareth taught her indoor flight--meaning they were back in the dorm and Jareth, in his Fae form, tossed crystals at Sarah to force her to flap about the room-- and commented on her fluffiness. That had been almost humiliating, but when Jareth took a picture of her and showed her the film, Sarah had agreed with Chame's assessment.

Sarah angled herself downwards, unaware of the much larger raptor shadowing her movements.

* * *

Jareth would later swear that Yrrile had dared him to do it. Before he could set about swearing, however, Sarah had to explain to her Biology teacher why she had stumbled through the door with an osprey on her head. She barely managed to keep her teacher from calling animal control by using her hair band to seal Jareth's beak (mostly because it made him look ridiculous, but partially because he was sending her thoughts on biting _"that annoying twit of a teacher"_), keeping a tight grip on Jareth's talons, and agreeing to stand at the front of the class with the osprey so the professor could lecture on the adaptation of birds of prey.

Sarah, naturally, started ranting at Jareth once they returned to the dorm room; Sarah had called for takeout and they were waiting for their dinner to arrive and found the wait to be a good time to pick at an old scab.

"Why? Why do you insist on getting me in trouble? I never did anything to you--"

Jareth interrupted Sarah's rant with a rather bored, "Are we ignoring or forgetting the way you broke my ballroom, my robot, and my Escher room?"

"We have been so far," Sarah said stiffly. Faolan whined from his location beneath the Mega-Poofzilla and Izzi shrank off of Sarah's shoulder to sulk in the boughs of her tree.

"Perhaps we have. Maybe we need to get this straightened out," Jareth suggested, his expression and inflection unnervingly detached from the conversation.

The ensuing eh, _argument_ (the Goblins who showed up to watch would call it the _Gorrif ek Stalliabmet' Werryt_, or War of Many Cursings) grew very heated very quickly. Insults, swearing, accusations, and occasionally Goblins were sent flying at one another by the debaters; both seemed to feel wronged in some way and neither willing to compromise over understandings of the past. Jareth seemed to poof up as he got angrier, and Sarah just got louder, and Faolan and Izzi were openly staring at the King and the Mortal, and the Goblins brought popcorn to eat while laughing at Jareth and/or Sarah/ throw at Jareth and/or Sarah after a particularly bad comeback.

That poor, poor delivery man knocked on the door to deliver the Chinese food ordered to hear two people simultaneously growled, "What the hell do you want?" One voice was icy in distemper, the other fiery with animosity. The man--coincidentally, his name was Timothy Pritchard the Fourth and he would go on to write a series of self-help books on communication after suffering through eight rather nasty divorces... But that would be another forty years in the future-- held up the bag as a shield when a rather pissed off woman jerked the door open.

"Two orders of dumplings, one order of sesame chicken, a quart of fried rice, and beef lo mien?" Timothy Pritchard the Fourth squeaked nervously. The P.O.'d woman sent a half-scathing, half-thoughtful look towards an equally livid man that Timothy Pritchard the Fourth hadn't noticed before. Somehow, the sight of both angered beings scared him less than just the one... As if they would keep each other in check, if only for something else to fight over. That part of Timothy Pritchard the Fourth's thought made him ready to bolt, and indeed, Timothy Pritchard the Fourth stayed only long enough to let the woman snatch the bag from his shaking hands before he turned and bolted, not even waiting to be paid.

Faolan and Izzi crept out to eat, and the Goblins scuttled off, and Jareth and Sarah sat in a terse silence while they started eating.

Sarah broke the silence first. "I'm sorry I called you a feathery son of an effing bastard's ass." Jareth glanced up at her, trying to judge the sincerity of Sarah's apology.

"I'm sorry I called you an arrogant whelp of a fornicating ape," Jareth said warily. Sarah nodded quietly in acceptance of Jareth's apology, and the tension infusing the silence fled, though the oddest family continued to eat in silence...

Until Sarah stole Jareth's dumplings, anyway. Then the four degenerated into the playful chaos that had, somehow, become normal. For them, at least.

* * *

Chame heaved a sigh of relief, watching her son and Sarah bicker in their friendly manner. For a while, she had been afraid that their argument would send one of them packing--and it wouldn't have been Sarah. _I should have known,_ Chame mused absently, _that they really needed to get that out of their way._

The Unseelie Queen glanced around her-- at the construction halted for a night's rest; at the out-dated magnificence of the Castle that had once stood there; at the awe-inspiring Castle that would stand there soon.

_Two and a half weeks left... And only one and a half of that time is for construction,_ Chame brooded before she turned back to the scrying pool beside her. _I imagine that last week will be the most eventful._

_

* * *

_

Oro: I know this is late, but I had Tech, so you'll just have to deal. I did warn you that the next few chapters would probably be posted on Saturdays. Unfortunately, the next chapter will probably be late, too, since I'll be travelling, but I'll try to post it on time.

Quill: I am offended that you've been looking at other owls.

Sarah: I like my owl, thanks. Leave her alone.

Oro: Flammulated owls are awesome. (grins) Send me a post message, and I'll send you links to some wonderful pictures of them if you don't wnat to check google images.

Jareth: I agree with Quill for once.

Sarah: Get over it.

Quill: In this chapter, Oro doesn't own: Labyrinth, its characters, flammulated owls, or delivery people.

Oro: Way to rub it in, Quill. Salt into a gaping wound and all that.


	17. Jailbird

Thy Bog Overfloweth

Chapter 17

* * *

_What in the name of Hell, Above, and Under does one get for a Goblin King who has everything?_

Two weeks away from Jareth's birthday, Sarah was panicking, agonizing, and generally exhausting herself over that question. Chame assured her that she didn't need to get anything for Jareth--Sarah had kept him and Faolan fed, sheltered, and (relatively) out of trouble--but still, it was the principle of the matter. After all, Jareth had given her a dream-sweatshirt, a day-long wish, and Izzi; she had to return the favor somehow...

But nothing she thought of seemed right. A generic tie? As if! Jareth would probably use it to shot-put Goblins out the Throne room window. Chocolate? Nope. After his initial experiences with human delicacies, Jareth found his tastes ran more towards chili-peppers than chocolate. Clothes? Sarah lamented over the cost of anything fine enough that he would wear it, even Jareth's glamours dressed him in high-end fineries (if one can even call jeans a form of fineries). Books? He devoured books like most people devoured dessert, as if Jareth had only that small section of time to read and memorize the book before him. Art supplies? He did enjoy all sorts of crafts, from carving to drawing to painting to performing; Slidge assured her that Jareth was a master craftsman at any art she could think of-- he'd a long time to practice... but Jareth's family had built a fully-furnished studio in the new Castle. Socks? He liked socks, but that fell under the category of "clothes", and Jareth really didn't seem the type to wear fuzzy socks, especially on the new, highly-polished, hard-wood floors of the Castle (Sarah had yet to see Jareth trip, but if he ever did, those evil hard-wood floors would cause it).

Jareth actually noticed her agitation--_stupid Fae men, only noticing what they weren't supposed to_-- and asked her what was the problem; Sarah considered just asking him, but that would have given the whole thing away...

So here she was in Chame's library, skipping her History study session and fiddling with the zipper of her dream-coat and flipping through tomes of legend and history. It seemed that all the Fae, even Kings, liked gems and songs; she could offer neither to Jareth... especially since she heard of the gems he'd be given and the songs he'd receive from the Fae courtiers attending his party.

_This is as bad as puzzling out the Labyrinth,_ Sarah brooded. She looked up sharply when Izzi pushed a book off the shelf three feet to her right.

"You promised to behave," Sarah started, but the scolding words died her throat when she looked at the book lying on the floor. The mortal girl picked up the book slowly; the tome fell open into her hand, eager to be read. Izzi trilled as the book rustled its pages, anticipating Sarah's needs and stopping on the exact page she required. Sarah blinked in surprise at the leather-bound book.

"Izzi, I take it back, you're a genius!" Sarah's gleeful exclamation made Izzi ruffle her chime-fur in pride; the book swished its pages in jealousy."And you, my dear book, are positively perfect," Sarah reassured it. The book quieted in contentment, and remained pleasantly cool in Sarah's hands as she raced to check out the book.

"Have fun, dearie," the Librarian--a rather hassled Sprite-- called after Sarah as she raced out with her book.

"Thank you, you too!" Here, now, was an answer-- _the_ answer-- so simple and so complex... Sarah had to get started immediately!

* * *

_What in the name of Hell, Above, and Under is she up to?_

For the past two days, Jareth had watched Sarah pace, stare blankly at the walls, and huff in frustration; when he asked her what was wrong, all he ever got in response was, _"It's just school stuff."_

_School stuff my Kingly arse,_ he groused as he ran alongside Faolan. The two were out jogging at two AM because Sarah--still leery after the air-raid incident--wouldn't allow them to fly, and Faolan couldn't use glamour yet. This meant waking up at ungodly hours to run in cool air, summer storms, or anything else Maria chose to throw at the two Fae. The time--such an odd concept to Jareth, _time_-- was the time that stilled between hours, minutes, seconds; the time was the time when the world slept and dreams raced and thoughts crept out from the gloomy recesses of the mind in which they waited for such moments.

_Maybe it's her... time of the month,_ a little voice at the back of his conscious supplied helpfully. _I mean, it's the classic symptoms, the moodiness, the agitation, the headaches, the zoning out... you saw it with your sisters, too._

_I'm not supposed to talk to myself,_ Jareth replied to the voice. _It's not very monarchial._

_That's not a word!_ the voice protested.

_Yes, it is, go look it up,_ Jareth's mental voice drawled.

_It isn't a word, look... Here, Auberon's Authorized Concordance, Volume Eight, Edition Twelve, Copyright 1313 Anno Domini... Do you have anything more recent?_

_Afraid not; I haven't had the time to memorize the dictionary as of late. You might try the thesaurus; I think it's from the sixteenth century, _Jareth told the voice.

_Nah, this'll do. Let's see... M... M-o... M-o-n... M-o-n-a... right. Monarch, Monarch butterfly, Monarchial. Huh. Whadd'ya know, it 'is' a word._

_I told you so,_ Jareth rumbled smugly.

The voice gave a mental impression of a shrug. _'No matter. You've been speaking to me for the past two minutes, anyway, so why not finish our original conversation? You know, there are all sorts of things that can help women when they're feeling bad. Most of these things tend to involve copious amounts of chocolate, of course, but I figure--_

_Wait a minute,_ Jareth interrupted. _'Who or what are you, exactly, and why should I trust you?_

_I'm the Spirit of the Labyrinth?_ the voice tentatively ventured.

_I think not. Try again._

The voice sighed. _I'm your conscious, you bloody fool! I've always been around, but you threw me into an oubliette a long, long time ago for daring to question your judgment, Reason._

_My name is Jareth, not Reason. I shouldn't have to explain this to myself._

_You are the Reasoning part of the mind, yes? And I am the part that steps back and tells you that you should apologize and sighs when you ignore me. I haven't got a name, but you can call me Sid, if you'd like._

_Sid?_

_It's better than Subby, which is what you called me when you were younger,_ Sid said indignantly. _And do you want my help, or not?_

_Not, if it's all the same to you,_ Jareth's Reason replied snidely.

_Too bad for you, then. Listen up, I have a plan..._

* * *

Chame glanced at the two reflections in the scrying pond and sighed. Both sought to support the other and to do so surreptitiously. Jareth, she knew, was going to be in a world of trouble when Sarah found out what he'd done. Sarah, however... Chame honestly had no idea what Sarah was up to. She had a feeling that Sarah's antics would draw far less attention than Jareth's.

* * *

It was, most definitely, another point in Sarah's life to add to her "Top Ten Weirdest Experiences", beneath the Labyrinth but above her first flight, her time as a Kelpie, and the time the Goblins played _James Bond_ with water guns and martinis.

She listened with growing horror as the person on the other end of the phone explained that the man currently within the police department's holding cell was arrested for disorderly conduct, and that the cops on duty were damn near calling for asylum employees to take the man away to a place where his delusions would be relatively harmless, and that if they hadn't already tested the man for every drug they knew of and found all the tests negative, the man would have been sent straight to a center to put him in detox.

...Oh, and aforementioned man kept asking to call a Miss Sarah Williams, please, tell her it's Jareth. The cops were truly astounded to find that the man didn't seem to be speaking to them but to the shadows in the corner of the holding cell. The man was, the dispatcher informed Sarah, so completely insane that the other people within the holding cell-- including a serial killer, a drug dealer, three drunks, and one poor man arrested for jay-walking-- were requesting that the unstable individual be moved to a different cell.

_He is so dead,_ Sarah growled to herself as she jerked her arms through the sleeves of her dream-sweatshirt. "Izzi!" she called aloud. When the drake lifted her head sleepily from her tree, Sarah relayed the story as she knew it.

"I need you to go find Faolan," Sarah finished. "The lady who called didn't mention an enormous canine, so he's probably out wandering the streets and I don't want him to get hit by a car or anything. Bring him back here once you've located him. Alright?"

Izzi trilled in agreement, and Sarah stormed out of the dorm as silently as she could. "I do hope Faolan doesn't get hit by a car," she murmured, "but I certainly wouldn't mind pushing Jareth in front of a bus at the moment."

It was a cool night tonight, but the dream woven about Sarah kept her warm-- and if it hadn't, her temper would have. The half-mile walk to the police station gave Sarah plenty of time to plan the bloody demise of a certain Fae King.

"You're Miss Williams, I hop-- presume?" The man behind the desk didn't have to voice the _please, please, **please** get that crazy ass OUT of here!_ Then again, his expression-- the reluctant hopefulness and the trepidation that came with the fear that Sarah wasn't here to relieve them of the Fae in the holding pen-- might have spoken louder (and more concisely) than any words.

"I am," Sarah responded, and the look of dawning realization-- also known as the look of, _thank-god-our-asses-are-SAVED_-- barely had time to take hold before the cop was out from behind the desk.

"We just need you to check and make sure you actually know the, er, disorderly in the holding cell," the cop explained as he lead Sarah down a short hallway. "Then you have a couple of forms to fill out, but nothing major." Sarah nodded as they reached the jail cell.

About nine people milled about in the cell... And the last one paced furiously, carrying out a snarling conversation with the shadows in the corners of the room. Even with his mortal glamour, Jareth looked like a wild beast caged--the glamour softened some of the sharper angles of his face, and rid him of glitter, and it lessened the flare of his features, but it could not hide the looming presence, nor the wild hair, nor the storm-like temper that hung about him like a cloak.

In mortal garb-- faded blue jeans and a plain black shirt-- the Goblin King looked every inch the villain. His fellow inmates watched him with something akin to both fear and dread, and the police winced whenever he paced to close to the bars. Sarah huffed.

"Yeah, I know him. Why don't you go get the paperwork and I'll fill it out here?" The cop who had lead her down the hall nodded and fled into the office. All the jail-birds looked up at her words; most of them looked confused at her words--in fact, the only one who understood what she said was Jareth, who stilled in his pacing.

"Sarah! I take it Fekk got my message to you?" Jareth strolled easily to the wall of steel bars.

"No," Sarah gritted tersely. She put her hands on her hips as she glared at the faerie-tale king opposite the wall before her. "As a matter of fact, Fekk is still in the corner with you, dumbass. Do you have any idea what it's like to be woken up at two thirty in the _fucking_ morning to walk to the police station and bail your roommate? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just strand your ass here!"

The others in the jail winced, but Jareth pulled his dignity about him even tighter and straightened his spine from the brooding slouch it had been curved in. "Now see here, Sarah Williams. I refuse to be yelled at like a recalcitrant child!"

"You, my _fine_ faerie friend, have no business ordering me about. Especially not when _you're_ the one stuck behind the bars." Sarah's scowl slid briefly up into a smirk. "You can't even touch those bars, can you? Made of steel, and you're allergic to iron." Jareth snarled and reached out; his gloved hand wrapped around the two crossed bars as Sarah's eye level... and crushed them together.

"I am respecting the laws of your people, woman," he hissed. "If only because it would not be dignified to rip this place apart, it is still intact."

"How very generous of you," Sarah snapped back. She had been up late for the past three nights, Jareth's party was in t-minus nine days, and now she was yelling at the Goblin King at way-too-damn-early AM because he'd been arrested for disorderly conduct. Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "You know, we could go rounds with this and get nowhere."

Jareth eyed her suspiciously. "What's with the sudden change of heart?" he asked.

"I am not entirely sure that I was really mad at you, just cranky. I will admit that I wanted to yell at you, though. We'll finish this conversation in the morning, though--I'm too tired to berate you properly at the moment." Jareth snorted, but watched as Sarah filled out the papers. The police waived the fine, saying something about the charge not being serious enough for a monetary tithe, but they were looking anxiously at Jareth when they told Sarah. There was a slight bit of difficulty opening the cell door; the two bars Jareth had decimated to make a point had been two separate parts of the lock.

The police and the jailed delinquents watched in stunned silence as Jareth and Sarah walked out of the prison, bickering in a quiet, friendly manner, far cry from the shouting match they had taken part in not minutes before. Then the two were on the street, and the people within the station forgot about the crazy blonde man and the mercurial brunette who bailed him.

* * *

Sarah clambered back into bed like a bear returning to its cave to hibernate sometime around three. She had demanded a full explanation from Jareth, who settled back against MegaPoofzilla and extracted two huge, slightly deformed, semi-mushy chocolate bars from his jeans pocket. He handed one to Sarah, and opened one himself. When Faolan sniffed at the bar in Jareth's hand, the King broke off a piece to feed the wolf before biting into the bar and looking warily at Sarah. She unwrapped her candy bar and took a small bite, breaking off a chunk for Izzi, who floated over to drape herself across Sarah's shoulders. Both females listened as Jareth began to speak.

"You may not know this," he started, "since I never told you, but I grew up in a rather large family. I have three sisters, and four sisters-in-law, so I grew up knowing there are certain times when one does not push a woman's temper too far, lest she start throwing things or crying. My sisters, I noticed, always felt better after eating mortal foods--particularly honey peanut butter and chocolate of any kind."

Sarah's shoulders slumped. "How is it you know about feeding women chocolate for PMS but not about tampons?" As Jareth opened his mouth, Sarah gestured him into silence again. "Never mind; it was rhetorical. How in the Underground did you get arrested for buying chocolate?"

Jareth shifted, a little uncomfortable at the memory and the shouting match he felt sure was soon to come. "The clerk at the mercantile I purchased these from did not seem happy that I paid him in silver," he muttered. "He kept insisting I paid in dollars, and when I told him I didn't have any, just precious-metal coins, he told me he'd have to speak to the manager. The both of them were very irritating little pricks and I lost my temper with them... But I got the chocolate!" Jareth added the last in a forcible bright tone. Sarah stared at him for a moment before she burst into laughter. Jareth seemed relieved.

_Damn you,_ Sarah wanted to yell, _I'm supposed to be cranky and bitchy when I'm PMSing! And it's so not fair,_ she thought wistfully, _that he can be that faerie-tale villain one minute and so sweet the next..._

"Hang on," Sarah said suddenly, "I thought you don't like chocolate!"

"I don't," Jareth replied, "but you don't eat unless someone else is eating with you. I have been watching you, you know."

* * *

Chame grinned at the scrying pond. The cranes-- or owls, as the case may be-- were dancing, and they didn't even know it. Naomhan padded up behind her to look over her shoulder.

"They don't need to be chaperoned, Chame," the High King whispered to his Queen. "And you need sleep. Nine more days, and our third-youngest comes home to visit."

"_Second_-youngest," Chame corrected. Naomhan grinned as he hugged her to him and splayed one hand over Chame's stomach.

"Third," he insisted. Naomhan laughed at the look of shock on his wife's face. "You can tell Sarah tomorrow," he rumbled as he scooped up the High Queen to carry her off. "You need to rest. I'm sure Sarah can help out more on things at this end, and I can take some time off from the negotiations with the Seelie King for a week or two. Everything is going to be perfect, just you wait and see."

* * *

Oro: Good morning! I would like to clarify some things in this chapter:

1-- "...or anything else Maria chose to throw at the two Fae." Maria, according to a song my uncle was singing over spring break, is the name of the wind.

2-- "...my _fine_ faeire friend..." is a blatant reference to Lixxle's _My Fine Feathered Friend_ in hopes that she will read this and update soon.

3-- various and sundry cursing. I spent a week at camp with my uncle, an ex-sailor. My mother actually called and yelled at him because I've been cursing all week.

Quill: It's damn annoying, too.

Jareth: As if you aren't! I want to know what's going on!

Sarah: In two or three more chapters, you'll know.

Oro: Maybe... I don't want this story to end! But, alas, the plot grows thicker... as does Chame's waistline. Heh. That's because I have a sequel of sorts planned out--a oneshot-- that requires a baby for Jareth and Sarah to babysit. Plus, Chame was meddling too much. Naomhan is going to make sure she steps back a bit... and allows the siblings their share in the chaos!

Disclaimer: Not saying it! Nyaa-nyaa-nyah-nyah-nyaa! (_There is a difference between child-like and childish. So nyah-nyah! _--one of the (many) senior citizens at the camp I went to)


	18. The Beginning of the End

Thy Bog Overfloweth

Chapter 18

* * *

Sarah Williams, for all her attempts to be otherwise, was a fairly normal person. She read trashy gossip magazines, didn't visit home as often as her parents would like, left Christmas shopping to the last minute, binged on chocolate whenever she had a chance, hit the snooze button on her alarm clock more than she should, didn't match her socks when she folded them, was proud to get a B minus on her Calculus final in High School, watched sappy chick flicks, cried when she read _Marley & Me_, and she would rather have curled up with a Calvin and Hobbes treasury than a classic. And if she quoted such brilliant minds as Oscar Wilde, Joseph Heller, Jane Austen, Terry Pratchett, Christopher Moore, Desiderius Erasmus, Douglas Adams, or William Yeats, well, she _was_ studying to be an English major, wasn't she? And if she laughed unexpectedly at seemingly nothing, well, who hasn't laughed at their thoughts? And if she was a little fonder of fantasy than most, well, with her turbulent childhood, who _wouldn't_ be? Yes, all in all, Sarah Williams was fairly normal.

The key word, of course, is _fairly_.

Actually, to reach the true key word, a few letters have to be swapped or added, and the "f" has to be capitalized. In the end, _fairly_ becomes _Fairie_, not the diminutive, biting, winged pests, but the massive, oft-biting, pest of a dimension. Fairie, honestly, simply refers to every layer of Earth's universal occupancy-onion that the person referring to Fairie is not in. To put it more clearly, if you were Aboveground, Underground, Inverse, Outverse, Diagonal, and Slightly-to-the-Left would be the realms that consist of Fairie. Or if you were in the Underground, Fairie would be Aboveground, Inverse, Outverse, Diagonal, and Slightly-to-the-Left. The only exception to this line of reasoning is that on Slightly-to-the-Left, everything else is _Slightly-to-the-Right_ Fairie.

So Sarah Williams, a mostly ordinary human, was extraordinary for her ability to see and communicate with the inhabitants of Fairie. The magic she held came from this ability to connect with others, and it was, quite possibly, the only thing keeping Sarah from snapping and turning all of Jareth's family into a giant pile of charred Fae.

Jareth's new Castle had been raised, and she was going through the floor plans with his family to start planning how to get Jareth to attend his own party. The problem with Fae families, Sarah soon found, was that they made up for their low birth-rate by building families into clans over millennia. Jareth's immediate family consisted of Chame, Naomhan, four sisters, two brother-in-laws, 'six' brothers, and four sister-in-laws. This was not even getting into the rather complicated knot of relations to aunts, uncles, cousins, second-cousins, second-cousins x-many times removed, grand relations, great-grand relations, and the many children adopted by one of the clan. There were, all in all, about sixty Fae milling about the new Great Hall. The Goblins had packed in about twenty of themselves, most of them swarming Sarah, who was seated at the center of one of the many seating circles in the Hall.

"We'll probably host most of the festivities in the open-air Courtyard," Jareth's great-aunt thrice-removed commented. Hilde, Sarah thought, but she couldn't be sure. "If we can find a way to lure him to his tower first, we basically rebuilt it, and he won't realize renovations were made until he reaches the armory."

Jareth's cousin from Inverse, Niyol, nodded. "The problem isn't which path to lead him through; the problem is how to get him here." The young lady beside Sarah, Jareth's sister Liadain, spoke up.

"I think I have a plan," she said, looking at her uncle Samael and his son Addanc. They gazed back, querying, but she said only, "I'll explain later. Sarah, you'll have to be there, too."

Most of the talk, Sarah found, was just the many Fae congratulating one another (and occasionally the Goblins) on the good work done in raising the Castle. She could not fault them for that, really, because the Castle was... magnificent at best, terrifying at worst.

The Fae had built the Castle on the highest hill in the center of the Labyrinth, had built it fourteen stories high, and had taken a leaf from the book of the men who'd built Blarney Castle--the Castle walls sloped ever-so-gradually inward, so that the soaring towers and battlements seemed to reach even higher towards the Labyrinthian sky. The windows were many, thin but long, offering only vertical glimpses into the Castle walls. The ceilings were high, vaulted affairs in all the public rooms; in the rooms for guests and permanent residents of the Castle, the ceilings were lower, but enchanted to give off however much light a person needed. Detailed stone carvings decorated much of the Castle, some merely art, others wards; some of them depicted battles or heroes or people (one looked _exactly_ like Jareth, and Sarah had almost thought it _was_ Jareth watching her); these stones moved about to some degree, speaking and keeping watch over the Castle. Other stones were carved in circuitous runes, spirals and swirls and the occasional jagged line; those stones thrummed softly, singing warmth and peace to those who took the time to listen to them.

One of the Goblins beside Sarah tapped her on the arm. When she looked down, he motioned for her to follow him. The Goblin introduced himself as Detrum as he led her to the Throne Room, where the Goblins were gathered. The Goblins greeted her with the warmth of a golden retriever greeting a friend, and when they finally settled down, a Goblin crone stepped forward to speak.

"Lady has seen the Fae and their building," the wizened old Goblin started. Sarah nodded, and the crone continued, "All well and good for Fae, but Goblins did building, too, and Goblins live in Castle. Lady knows King, and Lady knows Goblins. Lady make changes," the aged Goblin decreed. Sarah blinked in surprised amusement.

"How would I make the changes?" The Goblins stared at her for a moment, before one tiny Goblin man skittered forward.

He tugged on Sarah's shirt sleeve, jumping to reach it at all-- the Goblin was only about five inches high, but he was remarkable agile. Sarah scooped him up and set him on her shoulder.

"I," the Goblin claimed proudly, "am the Wyzard Rience, at your service, milady." Rience bowed to her, and Sarah curtseyed automatically, apologizing when the action nearly sent Rience toppling off his perch. "Just point out what needs to be changed, and I will fix it accordingly."

"Alright then... Shall we start at the bottom and work our way up?" The Goblins nodded enthusiastically, and Sarah smothered a grin as one of them started panicking when his helmet slid down and got stuck.

* * *

Jareth and Faolan idly hung upside-down in a pocket of space-outside-of-space. It wasn't big enough to be a dimension, but it was bigger than a point on the Dreamspace continuum.

In other words, it was damn roomy, just not big enough to be a world of its own.

Jareth had decided against orientating the gravity in his little pocket of the Universe, and at the moment, he was watching Faolan try to defy some rather complicated physics and chase his tail in a completely zero-gravity vacuum. It wasn't working very well, but that had never stopped a determined wolf before, and it wasn't about to stop one now.

As he floated and snickered at Faolan's expense, Jareth was thinking Deep Thoughts. He wasn't quite as good at it as the Magrathean supercomputer, but he was fairly good at pondering puzzles such as the one he was currently undertaking. Actually, he had several puzzles to riddle through; he was just focusing on them one at a time.

For one thing, he was turning eight hundred and forty three years old in a mere three days. This may seem old for a human, and indeed, eight hundred years on a Fae calendar is nearly fifteen hundred years on the much faster human calendar, but for a Fae being, this was about the equivalent to turning twenty-two: young enough to not be taken seriously, old enough to be a slight bit jaded, young enough to know what one 'wants' to do, old enough to wonder: 'what the hell am I actually going to 'do'?'

_Do I really want to be the Goblin King for the rest of my life? If I don't does it really matter? I can't just up and leave, after all..._ Jareth Thought. He Thought about Goblins and ruling them. He Thought about how much responsibility it was, keeping the Labyrinth and protecting the Goblins. He Thought about how much fun it was, taunting runners (and Sarah, when he didn't have someone running the Labyrinth to taunt) and drinking with the Goblins. He Thought about where he'd been, and he Thought about where he'd wanted to go, and he Thought about Home. Home was a very important concept to the Goblins and to the Fae. When he'd taken over being the Goblin King, Home had been his mother's Court or the family Keep in Diagonal (he still had a Diagnese accent, come to Think of it). Somewhere along the line, between arguing for the first time with the Labyrinth and arguing that last time with Sarah, Home had become the Castle beyond the City.

_So, I guess I do want to be the Goblin King. At least for a couple more centuries. But..._

_No buts,_ Sid broke in firmly. _If you want to be the King, you're staying the King. Think about your other problems._

_...You're supposed to be dead. I killed you for getting me arrested, remember?_

_Not dead, just maimed. You can't kill an inner voice; it's suicide. Of a sort, anyway... You're paying the hospital bills, by the bye._

_There's a hospital for subconscious voices?_

_Nope, which is my point. You'll be developing a lovely little migraine any minute now for trying to maul me. It was really mean of you to break my fingers, you know, and I extremely disliked it when you bashed my head against that brick wall you call Will._

_Hey!_ A new voice broke in.

_Sorry, Will._

_'How many voices **do**__ I have and why do you all sound suspiciously like my great-grand aunt Mia?_

_Well, now, there's me, and Will, and Maggie, and Clerval, and Percy, and Ned, and there's you, of course, and there's Jareth, naturally._

_**I'm** Jareth! And if you're my conscious, who're all those others?_

_No, no, you're just the forefront of the general Jareth. Will is will power, obviously; Maggie is magic; Clerval is emotion; Percy is instinct; Ned moved in two years ago, we don't actually know what he does; and Jareth is the bizarre paradox that both controls us all and is controlled by us all. Anyway, what's your next problem?_

_Sarah, as always. She's getting... paranoid._

_You sent a guy to the hospital yesterday by giving him a heart attack. I think she's quite justified in being paranoid._

_It was a two-way materialation lane! He was on the wrong side of it!_

_Mortals don't have materialation lanes, much less sides to stay on. Hey, maybe she needs a change in scenery..._

_I think he's right,_ Will added helpfully. _I mean, Sarah's been cramped in the dorm room with you and Faolan and Izzi, not to mention studying for those exams..._

_I have an idea,_ Sid announced smugly.

_That's what you said last time,_ Reason protested.

_Yes, but this one's **fool-proof**!_

_You said that last time, too!_

Having properly equipped the dungeons (Sarah had very carefully avoided looking at some of the torture devices; the Goblins assured her they were just for show, but _still_...) and re-webbing the corners with good old-fashioned cobwebs, Sarah had started the trek up the stairs and frowned.

"Rience? These stairways need to be wider. And there needs to be two handrails, one at human hand height and one at Goblin hand height." There was an affirmative sound from the Goblin on her shoulder, and then a stretching noise as Sarah's orders were followed.

She moved up the newly changed stairs and nodded in satisfaction as several Goblins ran past without jarring each other or her. The next change included embrasures for archers, small dumbwaiters, larger windows at the top of the tower, a murder-hole, rebuilding the Escher room, and a window seat looking out over the inner Courtyard and gardens. Because she couldn't resist, she summoned four plaques and told the goblins to hang them on four different doorways in the Escher room. Each one contained one line of the famous _Antigonish_, by Hughes Mearns.

Sarah had Rience set up a spell to haul the firewood to the fireplaces in the upper floors, and she ordered tapestries to keep out drafts in the servants' quarters (for which one Goblin woman nearly sobbed with relief, thanking Sarah as she told the human about her arthritis); in the kitchens she ordered a magic-operated refrigerator, and throughout the entire Castle, she ordered indoor plumbing. It had taken Rience two tries to get that right, but he did, and so the Goblins rushed Sarah (exhausted as she was by running around the huge Castle) to the City and the Royal Stables and Aviary.

The City, she had to admit, was beautiful, in an odd, lopsided, Goblinesque way. It was certainly easier to defend with the new street patterns, and the fountain they'd built to replace the old one wasn't nearly as... crude. It was still questionable, but it wasn't pissing gnomes, just spitting faeries (literally. The faeries had been turned to stone, but they were spitting the water instead of just spouting it). Several gargoyles had been made and posted at the City Gates, massive, lupine creatures with long, curving fangs in snarling, twisted mouths. Their looks were deceptive, though; each gargoyle had impeccable manners, crystalline voices, and were remarkably gentle with the Goblins and Sarah.

To replace Gigantumus, the old City Protector, the Goblin tinkerers had gotten their hands onto PVC pipes, duct tape, old tires, rubber cement, and sheet metal to create a new, automated protector that looked suspiciously like a certain King in armor. The new Protector was thirteen feet tall, in accordance to building laws, and looked to weigh about half a ton, but he bowed regally to Sarah when she met him. This one was equipped with two shining falchions, and for all that he should have been clunky, he was eerily silent and agile.

The Goblins lovingly referred to him as Rivenshear.

The Stables were very impressive, but half the stalls were empty. This puzzled Sarah, until the Goblins explained that the sturdier Bidrakes were out to pasture at the moment. Sarah asked why there were no troughs in the Bidrake stalls; she was soon informed that the draconian creatures ate only once every two hundred years or so, requiring water only every twenty, and were out feeding at the moment.

She made the mistake of asking what the Bidrakes ate and paled as she learned the little steeds--hardly any bigger than Ambrosias--ate fully grown rhinoceros bulls.

The only thing left was the Aviary, which housed Jareth's falcons, owls, and hunting hawks; it was also where the riding-rooks were kept. As Sarah knew little about falconry, she listened to the Goblins' suggestions and ordered the round tower to be widened and to have a sun roof added. Each bird received their own labeled niche within the thick walls, and the supplies room was organized by jesses, gloves, food for falconers' birds, and food for rook-riders' rooks.

Just because she knew it would annoy him, Sarah used her own magic to make a niche, perch, and name plate for both of Jareth's bird forms.

* * *

She was quite bleary when she walked into her dorm, so when she first saw the spacious, elegant set of rooms, Sarah thought she'd fallen asleep standing up and walking.

When she heard the sounds coming from the kitchen, a kitchen she _didn't have_, she became suspicious. She stepped into the room and recognized the sound to be Jareth attempting to cook. Note the word _attempting_--Jareth's cooking method generally involved throwing something in a pan, heating it on an oven, and swearing when it started to do... anything. Cook, burn, boil, saute; he cursed them all with words and clattering pots. The background for this was usually Faolan and the Goblins laughing and Izzi watching for an opportunity to bite the Goblin King.

That stray thought sent warning bells ringing, and Sarah poked her head into the not-hers kitchen to see Jareth trying to deal with over-boiling pasta while not-so-stoically "ignoring" the way Izzi's teeth had sunk into the fleshy part of his palm through the glove.

"Jareth? This isn't my dorm," Sarah called uncertainly. She watched the Goblin King swallow the next (particularly vile) curse before he uttered it, compose himself, and turn to grin at her.

"Of course it is," he insisted. "I just realized, well, we've been rather crowded, and with my magic, why couldn't I shuffle the space within your dorm? I mean," Jareth continued even as he turned back to the burning pasta, "I can rearrange it before I leave, and I'm just kicking myself for not thinking of it sooner... I could re-order time, if you'd like," Jareth suggested in an all-too-innocent voice.

"No! Leave the time space continuum as it is," Sarah snapped. Jareth snickered.

"If you'll give me a moment, I'll have this blethering pasta finished, and we can sit down for dinner."

"Why?" Sarah asked, staring at Jareth.

"Would you rather eat standing?" He responded, genuinely sounding puzzled.

"No, why're you making dinner... in a kitchen I don't have, by the way... instead of waiting for me to order out?"

"You've had your finals lately, and you need to relax. I thought it would be a good idea to make dinner for you... Do you not like spaghetti?" Sarah assured him that spaghetti was fine, thanks, and after he'd served them both, she unhooked Izzi so Jareth could eat.

It was odd, but there was nothing quite like eating burnt spaghetti with a Fae King who happened to be one of your best friends while watching even a wolf refuse to eat the leftovers and a wood drake snuggled into your hair. Maybe Sarah Williams wasn't so normal, after all.

* * *

Oro: This chapter is not as funny as usual, and it is also incredibly _late_. I have a reason for this, and in one word, it is: Ireland. My mom took me on a surprise trip to Ireland for my birthday, and I learned a lot about castles and falconry from the trip.

Oh, and I met a ghost.

It was awesome and inspirational, and a lot of the changes Sarah made are things my mom and I talked about while exploring Bunratty Castle, Blarney Castle, and the grounds at Kinnitty Castle. The doorways are short enough that people tell you to watch your head (my mom and I were short enough that we didn't even need to slouch, damn it) and the stairways are so narrow, two people cannot walk by each other, at all. I have no idea how servants managed to climb those stairs with a tray, or the ladies in dresses. Ick.

Quill: I was most displeased. Deprived of my subject for a whole week? I had no one to torment!

Jareth: It wasn't that bad... I didn't get bitten by Izzi for two weeks!

Sarah: A feat for which he is amazingly proud.

Oro: Anyway, I own very little here. The Goblins are their own, though they _do_ enjoy be written, Sarah and Jareth belong to the movie company (in as much as such characters can be owned), and the Labyrinth... No one dares to claim the Labyrinth save Jareth.

If anyone wants to take Jareth's family off my hands, I'd be most pleased...

* * *


	19. The Light at the End of the Tunnel

_The Light at the End of the Tunnel_

* * *

Timing, Liadain imparted to Sarah, Samael, and Addanc, would be imperative and, in order for her plan to work, impeccable. Sarah drolly commented that Liadain better not be counting on Goblins.

As it was, Sarah, Slidge, Rience, and a passel of other Goblins wandered the aisles at Kroger's, attempting to purchase foodstuffs for the party. Well, Sarah attempted while the Goblins impeded. She constantly took out brightly-packaged and useless foods, like ramen, low-end caviar, and crunchy peanut butter (which Slidge ended up stealing anyway). She didn't bother buying eggs, since the chicken pens had long since reached full capacity. She did pick up applesauce, pudding, confectioner's sugar, chocolate chips, measuring spoons, blueberries, and reached out to grab a cake mix when the Goblins interfered.

"You can't get _that_ one!" Slidge loudly protested as Sarah reached for a box of angel food cake mix.

"Why not?"

"King can't have _angel food_," one of the others explained, rolling his eyes. His sister smacked him before turning to Sarah.

"If the King likes angel food, he can have it," the she-Goblin whispered, "but you can't let this lot know; they'll be offended."

Sarah hummed her agreement and pulled several boxes of devil's food off the shelf to the delight of her Goblin escort and tucked the angel food cake under the chocolate chips before wheeling towards the check-out counter.

Now timing really got tricky: Sarah and the Goblins carried the bags of food back to the dorm, and as Sarah propped her bag on her hip to unlock the door, Addanc tripped the alarm-wards Jareth set up earlier in his stay at the dorm. As Sarah opened the door, Jareth and Faolan raced over in time to see Addanc grin wickedly, grab Sarah's wrist, and disappear.

Jareth, naturally, raced after them with Faolan close on his heels, following the long, twisting trail of Addanc's magic; Addanc did everything in his power to reach the checkpoint where he would continue to the Castle with Sarah as his father lead Jareth on a wild goose chase.

Sarah and Addanc stepped out of Aboveground with mere seconds to spare (seventeen seconds, to be precise) before Jareth passed by, tearing after Samael and the Sarah-shaped Construct. Whistling merrily as she strolled through the Goblin City, Sarah glanced up at Samael and considered the similarities between the Fae man and his son.

Both were tall, about Jareth's height, and more heavily muscled than most Fae men; the father and son shared sharp, foxy facial features and curly, gold-streaked mahogany hair. The two could be carbon copies of each other, Sarah mused, were it not for their eyes: Samael's left eye was rich brown while his right was emerald green; Addanc's right eye was a darker shade of green and his left eye was misty grey. It was the only way Sarah knew of to tell the two apart, and since Jareth should only see Samael's back until the party was ready for him.

Since time moved differently in each of the dimensions, Sarah wasn't overly worried about Jareth overtaking Samael before everything was set up; nonetheless, she started baking as soon as she reached the kitchen. Kicking out all the Goblins, Sarah set about making the two cakes: a huge, Death by Chocolate cake for the guests and a smaller angel food cake just for Jareth.

* * *

Faolan's breath rasped on the way in and burned on the way out; his movements, though efficient, were more strenuous than he'd experienced before in his puppy-hood romps with Jareth. His wings beat to propel himself through space at even greater speeds while his legs stretched and retracted in a steady, exhilarating rhythm. Barely ahead of him, Jareth raced after a Jareth-shaped being Faolan had never seen before. His friend and father-figure looked enraged and indefatigable as he pursued the stranger who'd stolen Sarah.

Deep in his Faeran-wolf heart, Faolan could almost find pity for the person who'd troubled his pack. Almost.

* * *

With the cakes cooling, Sarah pulled Jareth's gifts out of a dimensional hole she'd created earlier that morning. There were only three, but she thought he'd like them and she'd considered very carefully before selecting them. Sarah wrapped the gifts in the soft deer hide she'd purchased from the Goblin tanner, tying the parcel shut with black-dyed and braided hemp; at the end of the cords, she slipped two owl feathers, each a scant two inches long but beautifully patterned, into the braids. He'd know who the presents were from, she thought wryly, as he'd recognize the flammulated design.

* * *

Oro: Evil, aren't I? No worries, mates, the last chapter will be up tomorrow. I have it started (have had it started for the past eleven months, actually, but didn't want to admit the story's at its end) and, since I'm on Spring Break, I'll be able to type it in the morning. I would have included it here, but I thought the transition would have been awkward.

Quill: Plus, she's neurotic and OCD and wants to end at twenty chapters even.

Oro: Technically, I have CDO. It's a librarian thing... similar to OCD, but alphabetized!

Jareth: Till tomorrow, then...

Sarah: Oro doesn't own this stuff (gestures vaguely) but she does have a death-by-chocolate cake recipe.

Oro: It's a marvelous recipe, so PM me if you want it. G'night, and see you (and the end) tomorrow!


	20. You May Hold an Author to her Word

The Insanity Ends... _Or does it?_

* * *

Jareth looked ready to have a heart attack when he finally caught up with Samael, who he'd believed to be Addanc. Faolan crashed into him as he stopped, and Izzi snorted as she floated about the Goblin King.

"Izzi, no biting," Sarah called, but everyone else in the roared at the same time; within the marvelous din the guests made, Jareth could pick out sire, brother, Kingy, surprise, happy birthday, he's here, and variations thereof, usually concluded with several exclamation marks. Blinking rapidly, Jareth stared at his grinning family, shock etched into his features.

Jareth snapped to only when Izzi nipped his nose, not nearly as hard as she usually bit him. Faolan barked and rushed forward to jump on Sarah, wings fluttering, before bounding towards the Goblings waiting to play with the wolf.

Sarah stepped forward and seated Jareth in his throne, which Aodhan dragged out to the Courtyard. As Jareth attempted to order his discombobulated thoughts back into shape, Sarah leaned down and whispered in his ear, "All the planning was worth it to see you speechless…"

* * *

Rivenshear carried in a tank twice as large as the metal golem and situated it next to the circular fountain at the center of the Courtyard. Within it, Araskuro lounged lazily. Jareth sat beside the tank and conversed with the Kelpie, watching the revelry taking place in his name.

Sarah played Annie with the Goblins, their Goblings, and Faolan as the Fae and other races placed bets on winners. Chame and Ravyn reminisced about the months of planning and the many times Jareth stumbled upon and nearly discovered their plot. Creatures from all over the Labyrinth showed up for the party and mingled with creatures from the other 'verses. Minstrels and bards greeted one another as the Fierys prepared for their performance.

Fae parties tended to be _big_. What's more, they lasted for days, and Jareth knew this one would be much the same.

Sarah and Faolan tied at Annie, much to the disappointment of the gamblers and the disbelief of the Goblins, since no-one had tied a game in the Labyrinth before. The two picked their way through the throngs of people to greet Araskuro and sit with Jareth. It wasn't hard to reach the Goblin King— the flow of traffic headed towards him— but stopping once they reached him proved difficult: the denizens of the Labyrinth shuffled forward to greet their King before dispersing and the crowd expected Sarah and Faolan to disperse, too. Faolan ended up perched at the rim of Araskuro's tank while Sarah stubbornly clung to a patch of leyechyn, which blinked at her balefully. But offered no other form of protests.

The Fierys started juggling themselves, tossing arms and legs over each other and twirling their heads on their shoulders; in their current high spirits, they made copious jokes and jested merrily with the crowds. They called the minstrels forward to play a tune for them to dance with; once they caught the rhythm, the Fierys started, er, break-themselves-up dancing. Not quite juggling nor spinning, there was a pattern to their movements; Sarah couldn't see it, but she sensed one.

The Fierys' jigs ended when Helping Hands raced along the Courtyard walls with platters of food and utensils. Nine Hands, larger than their siblings and honored to be of service, "walked" along the Courtyard's cobbled path, working together to balance a tray of food for their King on the backs of their hands. When Jareth gladly accepted the food, taking the tray off their hands, the Helpers pranced happily back to the walls, their gloved fingertips barely brushing the cobblestones.

Minstrels took shifts, wandering amongst the hordes of diners while singing celebratory ballads. When one grew tired or hungry or finished a set of songs, another got up to take his place; there seemed an endless supply of singers and musicians in attendance.

Sarah looked out at the people eating and saw beings of all shapes and sizes coexisting happily; people from all walks of life, each dressed in vivid colors and patterns, teased one another and introduced relatives and friends to their neighbors. Jareth pointed out Sir Didymus and his family; it seemed that each of the knights polished his armor and washed their steeds before arriving. Hoggle waved at Sarah and bowed, somewhat reluctantly, to Jareth, who nodded in return.

Ludo arrived late but lumbering forward to meet the King as all the others had. When the beast bowed, Mr. Worm slipped off Ludo's horn and helped Missus Worm step off. Sarah stared at both Missus Worm and the parasol she held: Missus Worm, a gorgeous Karner Blue butterfly, held in her dainty hands one of the many mini-umbrellas Sarah accidentally created while learning her runes.

"Ah always knew you'd get around tae meetin' the Missus," Mr. Worm declared proudly. "She's too good for me, aye? So lucky she loves me. Just like your lady, Sire," he grinned. "Never did thank you for the parasols, did I? You should drop in for a cuppa tea sometime, aye? And bring your own lady butterfly," he finished, nodding meaningfully at Sarah, who was deep in conversation with the delightful Missus Worm.

"Come on, then, luv," Mr. Worm called to his Missus. "We have tae git our seats before the masked games start." Missus Worm giggled, a sound akin to ringing Canterbury Bells.

Jareth grinned as he watched the Worms stride away with Ludo in tow. He turned to Sarah and started to explain the masked games when she informed him she knew about the masked games, thank you very much, as she'd been the one to commission the masks.

* * *

Liadain shuffled a deck of cards and split it; the enchanted deck never ran out of cards and contained nine suits. She gave a handful of cards to Ravyn, Fletcher, and Rience; the four split off to hand out a card to every guest. Sarah glanced at her card—the Ace of Harps, a card depicting a calico cat playing a silver harp; it reminded Sarah of a Beatrice Potter illustration—before slipping it under her cup and waiting. She tried to peek at Jareth's card, but he slid his card under his goblet without looking at it.

In any of the nine suits—harps, woods, birds, planets, fires, times, waters, staves, and beasts—she knew he'd be a king, ace, or jester, which would narrow down a great deal of the attendants. That still left twenty-eight possibilities, though she highly doubted he'd be a harp, merely because the deck was well shuffled and he'd received his card just before she had. Sarah didn't know exactly each card looked like as a mask, either, which complicated the final game.

As one, the partiers stood, mingled, and raised their cups to toast the King before drinking deeply, masks and costumes concealing their possessors as the cups dropped. Goblins grew and Fae people shrunk to complete the disguises—Sarah was rather disgruntled to note that she did neither. She felt her costume swirl as she walked, and looked down to see a wide emerald cloth wrapped her waist and tucked in a russet poet's shirt and tree-bark brown pants. Ragged-looking strips of cloth and leather, each a different shade of copper, cream, or brown, dropped from the sash at lengths varying from ankle to mid-thigh. She noticed her distinct lack of shoes and laughed at the multitude of anklets dripping silver and bronze bells adorning her left foot.

Glancing up, she saw Venetian masks, ceramic masks, leather masks, masks that looked like face-paint, fantastic masks, realistic masks, scaled masks, feathered masks… as far as she could see, masked people danced with and around one another. Making her way to a mirror, Sarah studied her own mask: it stopped beneath her nose and wrapped around her head like a head wrap, a calico cat with a dark mane streaked with brown and light grey. She grinned at her reflection and made her way into the throng of revelers.

* * *

He'd already lost Sarah in the crowd, but Jareth scanned the disguised celebrators anyway. His card—the Jester of Fires—provided a costume both showy and subtle. The flashy colors contradicted the fairly conservative clothes. A short, multi-hued, gold-embroidered brocade cloak clasped at his shoulders and elbows, the end dropping in a jagged arrow to his lower back. A simple scarlet shirt tucked into leather pants, looser than he would normally wear, that faded from crimson at the waist to ash grey at the ankles. He felt the edges of his mask—curving in some places, pointing in others, in a blatant mimicry of a bonfire—with ungloved hands.

He lazily eased into the circle dancing, scanning the other dancers, hoping to find the mortal girl behind so much of this. The Masquerade, he knew from past experience, would continue from now until sunset, when people would guess the identity of other masked attendants and choose their dance partners for the night. Come noon tomorrow, the party would still be in full swing and the cards would be redistributed, and again every day the party progressed. Jareth doubted Sarah would stay past tomorrow's early hours, which made his search all the more thorough.

Musicians called out dances and strummed guitars, harps, and dulcimers; pipers played reels and singers crooned along to whatever tune happened to be playing at the moment. Jareth danced with the others, enjoying the anonymity while annoyed that he couldn't find Sarah; _this_, he mused, _is exactly why I didn't give her a mask in the Crystal Ballroom_.

He found her as soon as a fiddler commanded her to sing...

"Aces! Aces! Step forward, Aces!" The command came from the Queen of Planets, dressed as Mercury. The nine Aces obliged, and Sarah gazed at a rowan, a gyrfalcon, Venus, a candlestick, a grandfather clock (she really loved that costume), a creek, a quarterstaff, and a wyvern. _All this and a calico cat to top it off_, Sarah thought with a grin. It amazed her how easily she knew what each person was from their mask and costume, but that was part of the magic, wasn't it?

The other gathered in a circle around the Aces, watching as each Ace performed. Sarah found a violin thrust at her, which was just as well since her choices for performing came down to singing, storytelling, or magicking up miniature umbrellas.

She glanced at the fiddle in her hands, the sweet mead in the cups, and the masks on everyone's' faces before inspiration hit and she improvised, making up a "took-two-years'-worth-of-lessons" fiddler's version of Sligo Rags' _The Whiskey Never Lies_. "When the bottle's empty, I can see through your disguise," she started, "so you'd better mind your tongue because the whiskey never lies."

She plucked the strings a bit before drawing the bow across them, pacing to a four-beat rhythm before her audience as she continued, "You said you'd had it bad for me, you'd take me to the moon—" she tipped her head at the Jester of Planets, who laughed heartily— "you said no other moved you so, no other made you swoon. But when the drink was in your blood, you sang another tune… And now I know the gospel truth, the whiskey never lies!"

She finished her song and would have stood back, but a voice called, "The fidchell can wait! Let's have another, Lady Ace!" Sarah panicked again, rustling through her mental list of "Songs I Can Play Well Enough that I Don't Sound Deranged" and picked _The Raggle Taggle Gypsy _on a whim.

"There were three old gypsies come to our hall door, they sang brave and boldly-o! One sang high, and the other sang low, and the other sang the raggle taggle gypsy-o!..." She worried that she'd butcher the song, but several people, mostly Jesters, rose and started dancing to her tune; she grinned as she realized they were all dressed like gypsies and finished her set as boldly as the travelers in her song.

She finished her song and retreated to allow the last Ace their performance, glad to be called aside afterwards by the King of Harps as each suit retreated from the center of the Courtyard to pick the living fidchell players.

* * *

Jareth was a little disappointed to see no calico cat on the Suit of Harps fidchell team, but not terribly surprised. He had to play for the Suit of Fire team; Jesters mandatorily played as one of the seven pieces and as the general. He knew Sarah wouldn't have actually been playing him, either; as an Ace, she'd merely serve as a living piece. He still wanted to play the long-time rival whom he'd recently claimed as his friend.

He smirked as he chose his players. She might not be playing, but Sarah would certainly be watching and any opportunity to show off was a good opportunity to do so.

As custom dictated, the first four matches pit Fire against Time, Water against Planets, Beasts against Harps, and Staves against Birds. The Suit of Woods, the oldest and most respected Suit, would not play until the very last round. For that exact reason, most masqueraders hoped for any other Suit: a good game of fidchell was a treat, and to play just one game, even for the honored Suit, appealed to few. Jareth won against Time, which he considered ironic, and took his team to victory against Planets in the next round the Harps and Birds battled through their game. Jareth struggled with the Birds in the second-to-last round but outmaneuvered the Bird Jester, a Saker Falcon, to play against his mother, the Jester of Woods, in the final round.

The last round dragged on, and Jareth watched Sarah as closely as he watched the game; dusk rapidly stained the sky and lengthened shadows on the fidchell board as the Jesters jockeyed for an edge. Jareth's Suit grappled with Chame's until the very end, when he forced her to surrender as the only remaining player of her Suit on the board. Once more the King of Games, he smirked, but extended to the defeated Suit their due courtesy.

He very quickly made his way toward Sarah and swung her into the circle dance with him just as the music started. The sun set, and Jareth tugged the knot free from her mask.

"How'd you—oh. The fiddle?"

"The fiddle."

* * *

The crowd danced three sets before the Helping Hands brought out desert; Sarah slipped off to the kitchens while Jareth went to cut the first slice of cake. She found him sitting in a doorway, fussing with but not consuming the Death by Chocolate cake, and smiled, pleased with her foresight.

"I'll trade you," she whispered as she sat beside him. Jareth blinked and looked down at her plate.

He said nothing, but Sarah took his plate from him and handed him the angel food cake with blueberries and blueberry syrup.

"How'd you know?" She'd expected his question as well as his reaction to the official birthday cake, and didn't mind answering, but pondered her word choice.

Sarah scooped up a bit of cake and stared at the fountain. "You don't like chocolate anymore than I like eating alone," she replied, not looking at him. She heard Jareth's answering hum and started eating.

* * *

The Helping Hands had only just finished clearing the cake dishes when the first impatient Goblins started presenting Jareth his gifts.

They brought the gifts from a table, and didn't actually care who brought the gifts as much as if specific gifts pleased the King. Jareth received gifts from visiting monarchs, residents of the Labyrinth, wealthy traders, not-so-wealthy farmers, mages, blacksmiths, Goblins, leyechyn, family, friends, and one mortal girl.

Sarah's gifts got mixed up with all the others, and he opened it between an illuminated text from a wealthy Hobgoblin merchant and a chest of precious stones from an old dragon friend. He handled the leather-wrapped items with such care she knew he knew who gave this gift. He saved the hemp and feathers, set the leather at his side, and considered her presents to him.

He held the first gift, a glass ocarina, in his hands for several moments before slipping the cord over his head and promising a song to the Goblin on his shoulder.

The silversmith beamed when Jareth viewed the second of Sarah's gifts; she'd called in several favors to commission the piece. The silver stag regarded Jareth as he regarded it; Sarah explained that the stag, three-dimensional puzzle crafted of enchanted silver, untangled to reveal a compartment. Since the stag would hold still long enough to be solved only by Jareth, he could safely store anything within the stag, who curled up at Jareth's side.

For her last gift to him, Joyce's novel _Finnegans Wake_, Jareth required no explanation, but he explained to a curious elf that the book was a long literary puzzle, a labyrinth of words. Satisfied with the answer, the elf stepped back.

Gratified by her thoughtfulness, the Goblin King thanked Sarah Williams. In public. She nearly died of shock.

* * *

Sarah woke on her couch, still in her calico cat costume, with the mask on her chest and a memo in her hand. She blinked blearily, trying to remember when she stumbled back into her Jareth-tampered dorm room and failing to find the memory. Izzi purred in her ear, snoring and, apparently, dreaming. Sarah went to rub her head, hoping to appease the mead-induced hangover and poked herself in the forehead with the note tied to her wrist.

Head fuzzy, she untied the note and unfurled it; the parchment crinkled a little and tried to curl back up. Ignoring Izzi's noisy protests (and her headache's throbbing protest), Sarah sat up and held the parchment open to read it.

_Sarah, my dearest fellow conspirator,_ (this written in Chame's hand)

_I'm immensely pleased to thank you for all the effort you put into making Jareth's eight hundred and forty seventh birthday celebration a success—everyone is having a wonderful time, and Jareth loves his Castle (thanks again for tricking him into designing his Castle for us); there seems to be no end in sight for this party! I'm sure you're not yet ready to rejoin the merriment_—Sarah thought about the mead, her head, and Goblin singing, then she groaned her agreement—_but if you do feel up to it, we'd love to have you back._

_I'm certainly enjoying this next bit, although I'm not sure you will… You ate quite a bit of Fae food at the party, Sarah, although Ravyn and Hoggle tried to warn you (spoilsports). You'll need to spend at least three weeks a year in the Underground now, but don't worry, Jareth says he'll have a room kept available for you._

_You get to keep your mask and costume, and I put a couple slices of cake in the refrigerator for you._

_Cheers!_

_Chame_

Sarah reread the letter twice before the full implication sunk in, and she heaved a sigh. _Meddling, double-agent-ish, matchmaking traitors_, she grumbled to herself as she extracted a left-over slice of cake from the fridge. Izzi stole the first bite off her fork, and Sarah couldn't find it in her to chastise the drake. _Gods save me from 'em.

* * *

_Oro: ...It's over. Twenty three months and seven days (eleven months of which were spent purposely not writing/finishing/posting the last chapter) later, it's _over_. Shit.

Quill: Don't worry, I'm not done with her yet.

Jareth: The really ironic thing is...

Sarah: As Oro manipulated and plotted Jareth's birthday party, her mother plotted hers last year. Hm...

Oro: So, yeah. I'll have at least two (if not three or four) oneshots out before Break ends and I won't be able to write again. I'm toying around with the idea of writing a sequel to Dreamer... and I'm going to start posting things on Live Journal, I think.

Disclaimer: Don't defy me, Oro...

Oro: I defy you! I've defied you for twenty chapters and over thirty stories! My will is greater and always will be, so _pbbtz!_

Quill: She doesn't own Labyrinth, its characters, or the music mentioned in this chapter. She does have a recipe for the Death by Chocolate cake.

Jareth: You know, for a minor, Oro knows an awful lot of drinking songs...

Oro: I swear, the strongest drink I've imbibed was soymilk.


End file.
